begrudged
by wtvoc
Summary: AU. forget everything they told you about true love. sometimes, everything they tell you is a well-intentioned lie. by WTVOC and JANDCO.
1. Chapter 1

**So back in April, there was an auction to kick cancer's ass. We put ourselves on the auction block, and we were won by an incredible person- wolvesnvamps.**

**This is what she requested. She's reading it as you are. She has no clue how it's going to go, just requested a couple details and that it be "the angstiest thing I've ever read".**

**Sooo… jandco and wtvoc take on the vamp world, folks.**

**Unbelievable thanks to those who beta'd and cold-read this here thing: emibella, jennyfly, elleCC, limona, bittenev, jennday and sensecoalition. You guys kept us from thinking we were total idiots for taking on the Alternate Universe genre.**

**But it's dedicated solely and exclusively to wolvesnvamps. Hope you like it, darling.**

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**Begrudged**

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**Chapter 1**

**Bella**

"Don't you hurt him, Paul," I called out to an enormous red wolf. He playfully had Seth's dark flank in his massive jaws- loose and not harmful, but still. I of all people know that accidents can happen.

"They're playing," Jake said, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"I know…but Seth is so much smaller—"

"Since when are you such a mother hen?" Jake laughed, and I twisted my toes into the wet sand.

That was a very good question.

Since when?

When did I stop cheering on this rough-housing to watch with a furrowed brow and call out warnings instead? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but somewhere along the way…I had.

The thing is…none of the others had changed with me.

My boyfriend and somewhat feral pack of best friends hadn't changed a bit since we were fifteen—they were still as reckless and playful as the day each of them first phased.

"Well…I just don't want to see anyone get hurt," I said to Jacob.

"No one will get hurt," he said, rolling his eyes. "Hey."

"What?"

"Remember when we used to do this?"

"Do what?"

Quicker than I could blink, Jacob had scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder. I shrieked; I was upside down and my eyes widened at the sand below me—it looked at least five feet away.

Jacob took off running and I clawed and clung to his sides, squealing and wriggling—but not scared.

Jacob would never let me fall.

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it," I screamed and snorted—but he was going to do it anyway.

Without ever breaking his fast stride he ran straight into the water, flipping me upright in the process. Now being held bridal style, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and fervently shook my head "no" while he laughed, my own smile probably as broad as his.

"That water is freezing," I said, holding on tighter.

"Bella, you've gotten _so heavy_," he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Jake, don't."

"Hup!" he said, and his arms loosened and I was two inches closer to the water.

I scrambled and clawed back up his hot skin, shaking and laughing.

"If you ever want a hot meal again, you won't drop me," I threatened, and we both knew it was an empty one.

"What? You want to go swimming?"

"No!"

"Well, if you really want to…"

I twisted and maneuvered myself until I had my legs wrapped firmly around his waist and my wrists locked behind his neck.

"Then again, this is good, too," he said, when my lips were even and barely an inch from his.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Jake shifted me up higher and I kissed him soft on his dry, hot lips. His arms tightened around me and I let myself go limp and relaxed, encased in his huge, hot embrace.

I exhaled and rested lazily on his shoulder while he slowly swished us in the water, around and around. The heat from the slowly setting sun began to wane on, but I was still plenty warm…even when dusk turned into dark.

I don't know how long he held me out there, but he never got tired and I never got cold.

In the distance we heard jesting growls and snarls and the deep laughs of overgrown boys. At some point I saw the blaze of the bonfire up on the beach, high and hot.

Between the dark, the lull of the lapping water, and Jake's hot skin, I started to doze in and out of sleep, warm and secure…and it was _these_ times.

If I could live forever in one moment—it would be right then.

I felt his lips press into the top of my head and I attempted to snuggle in closer.

"Sleepy?" he murmured.

I nodded and my eyes closed again.

"The night is young, Bella," he said, and I knew that not-so-subtle hint of mischief in his voice all too well.

Before I could come out of my serene state to get a good grip on him or muster a sincere plea, I hit the icy water and went under.

The shock of being submerged in extreme cold from extreme heat was almost _excruciating_—it hurt and made me ache…but in an odd, inexplicable way, I _almost_ welcomed the change.

I kicked and flailed to break the surface—but I was disoriented and still trying to shake sleep. The freezing water had a hold of me, and though I tried with all of my might to get out—I simply couldn't.

One huge hand grabbed onto my arm and I was pulled from the water.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked with wide, horrified eyes.

"Yeah…" I said, gasping for air.

He pounded on my back then lifted me up to him again.

"I'm so sorry! God, I've done that a thousand times—if I thought for one second—"

"I'm fine, Jacob. I was just a little disoriented at first," I said.

He held me at arm's length by the shoulders and looked me up and down.

"You're always ready for that," he mused, kind of cocking his head.

"I'm getting older," I joked. "My old heart can't take it."

"Nah. I'm just getting quicker," he said.

"Hah!"

"Really. Sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, slapping at his chest.

"In that case…race you back," he said, then dove into the water.

I stood there, wading in the bone-aching cold. For some reason, I wanted to linger there…just for a second.

Then I yawned and heaved myself back into the water to get to the shore, to get back to Jake and the warmth and away from the cold-- where I belonged.

Soon I was dressed in Jacob's warm, dry clothes and huddled in between the massive, warm bodies of my best friends. We sat in a loose circle on the sand; I stared into the fire while the boys did what the boys do— be loud and jovial.

"You gonna finish that hot dog, Bella?" Embry asked.

"No, go—"

"I wanna see Bella eat it," Jared cut in, crass and disgusting.

Jacob's fist flew and Jared went flying back into the sand with a thud.

"Grow up," I sighed and handed Embry my soggy paper plate.

"Not if I don't want to," Jared grinned, getting to his feet.

The boys all hooted and hollered and bumped fists…and the reality of what he said smacked me in the stomach.

Of course I always knew the boys don't age when they phase… but.

I looked over at Jacob, wrestling around with Jared…and the rest of them…and…they just weren't aging at all.

It wasn't the physical changes I was looking for…it was the maturity changes.

And there weren't any.

Three days later, I leaned down to pore over the fragile, yellowing paper. I supposed it looked old, important, but I already knew that.

I knew the history of this treaty. I knew the way my boyfriend's black eyes turned impossibly darker when he spoke of it.

I read over the words slowly, this time actually taking them to heart. These words were no longer only relevant nearly a century ago.

They were revived; very real, very now…and, according to Jacob, very necessary.

I read down the list of names again; familiar, but somehow with more meaning this time around.

My Jake's ancestors, scrawled in fading black ink, thick and bleeding.

Then five more names, written thin and sinewy, but each in its own delicate scrawl.

Carlisle Cullen.

Esme Cullen.

Emmett Cullen.

Rosalie Hale.

Edward Cullen.

I knew those names should have sent a cold shiver up my spine.

I knew I should feel fear and hate.

But I didn't. Maybe because I was loved by the most fierce protector imaginable. Maybe because I found out a long time ago that mythical creatures aren't always what they're made out to be in campfire stories and ancient legends. But it was probably for a reason I couldn't have possibly known then.

I couldn't have known that last name on the list would be our undoing.

I couldn't have known that name would represent _everything_ beautiful and wrong and heartbreaking and lifesaving and life-taking.

For the majority of my twenty-three years, I was told and I believed that there was no stronger bond than the phenomenon of imprinting.

It was the reason for existence, the reason for breathing and waking and smiling.

It was all I'd ever happily known.

But that fifth name, and who it represented, was about to destroy everything I ever thought I knew.

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**We love you, wolvesnvamps. Thank you for being amazing. **

**Buckle your seat belts. It's gonna be a bumpy night.**


	2. Chapter 2

**If you haven't heard about the newest, exciting-est thing to hit the Twi-Verse in ages, well- what the hell are you waiting for? A Different Forest goes live August 22****nd****. Go to the website (link on my profile) and pre-register now!**

**Dedicated, forevermore, to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 2**

**Edward**

_Ooh, there's a new one. Who are you, and what's with that face? That handsome, brooding face?_

Boring.

_Hello there. My, that hair is unreal. I'd like to run my-_

Boring.

_God, those fingers. I bet he_-

Boring and unimaginative.

_Oh, God. He's smiling. Is he smiling at me? Is he coming this way, or-_

Boring and annoying.

_That one looks like fun. Bet I could get him to fuck me in the bathroom._

Bingo.

As I so often did, I found myself strolling through some non-descript bar that ignored the "no smoking" law. The talent wasn't too shabby, but it was nothing special, either. Overdone women with fluffy hair, smelling delicious and oversexed.

This particular girl wasn't half-bad, either. A tad skinny, but no matter. Her thoughts were so inconsequential that I could tune her out as I- to use her charming, elegant words- fucked her in the bathroom.

She didn't even bother trying to coax my number or last name out of me as I tucked my shirt back into my trousers, simply primping and tossing a careless wave at me as she fixed her lipstick in the mirror. She shivered once and flung her cardigan over her shoulders, and I heard the same comment they always thought in various forms as I strolled away- _That one must have ice running through his veins, he's so cold_.

I drove back to Forks, allowing a listless sigh to leave my mouth as I raced toward our new/old home. I had given the family the time they needed to settle in- and have relations of their own.

I ignored Alice's concerned brow and Rosalie's condescending smirk as I settled in on the couch, resting my hands on my legs. I wanted to brush away the tendrils of Jasper's calm fog, but I knew he was just trying to assuage the mounting tension, to prevent the same fight that happened every time Edward "went out for an hour or so".

"Find a nice lady friend, Eddie?" Rosalie sneered before turning back to arranging Esme's new furniture. She had gone all white for this move- a "new beginning", Esme had called it. I felt a momentary twinge of guilt at that and allowed the feeling to wash over me. It had been such a long time since I had wallowed, and I embraced it. Rosalie's intended insults always brought out the best in me.

"So, Edward. Are we ready for a new day?" Carlisle strode into the living room, smooth and polished, confident and calming. I smiled grimly, hearing his thoughts begging for me to play nice. As always, I couldn't deny my father, and I tried to relax my rigid pose as I rested my arm across the back of the couch.

"Of course, Brother." My response made Emmett hoot, and Jasper's soft laugh filled me with joy. Everyone else's smiles were involuntary as Jasper did his damned thing. I wanted to tell him to knock it off, but I felt better and decided to let it go.

Esme's soft grin turned to a glare at Rosalie as she silently begged Rose to just drop it. _Truce, please. It's our first night._ Rose didn't need to hear Esme's silent plea as I did; it was plain in her face. Rosalie primly pressed her lips together but said nothing.

"So, family," Carlisle continued, cheerfully ignoring the rising anxiety in the room as Jasper's smile died down. "Tomorrow, the doctors Cullen begin a new tenure at Forks hospital." Emmett's loud snort broke the tension, finally, and while I didn't laugh in answer like the rest of my family, I smiled, if only for the sake of my father.

"Can I be there, please?" Emmett pleaded, bouncing on an ottoman like a kid at Christmas. He stopped when Esme put a hand on his shoulder- he was making the above chandelier tinkle with his enthusiasm. I chuckled in anticipation of his explanation.

"What, Esme. Come on. Nothing is more amusing than the nurse's reactions to Carlisle. And adding the Sullen Cullen to the mix, with his dreamboat hair and hungry expression? You know how every woman, human or vampire, wants to satiate that hunger. Gees, it'll be like someone announced a sale at Bloomingdale's. 'Oh, two handsome doctors? Be still, mah heart!'" He added a falsetto to his voice, clasping his hands and batting his lashes. I tossed a beaded, white throw pillow at his head, annoyed that he could make me laugh before I caught myself. Emmett neatly deflected the missile and grinned at me.

"Come on, Brah. Let's go get our hunt on. I bet this Forks place is still teeming with wildlife. And I don't mean skeezy bar maids, either." I made to hit him, but I laughed. Ever the tension-breaker, Brother Mine. Emmett's good nature usually rubbed off on me, and I cuffed him, even as he thought, _Come on, Edward. Let's start anew. Try not to dwell on things you have no control over._

Right.

Emmett and Rosalie jogged off into the night when I claimed I would go out on my own, and I ignored Alice's mind-humming of some popular tune. She wanted to keep me out, fine by me. Her worried expression didn't escape my notice as she and Jasper disappeared into the creeping fog, and I decided to let her in. But later. For now, I let my good humor lead me into the dark Forks night.

Lead me to the cemetery.

It had been years and years, and I remembered the last time, clear as day.

I found the grave with ease.

_B. 1919 D.1937_.

So young. So trusting. She had been my first. My first kill, my first… well. Emmett and I didn't always have the easy-going relationship we had now, and that had been a first for me as well. Letting someone's taunts about my virginity get to me.

_Come on, Eddie_, he had said, and his then-voice echoed through my head. _Just get it over with. Sex is no big deal._

No big deal.

She had been so lush, so aromatic. Beautiful, with her carefully curled tresses, brown and rich and wound around my fingers as I yanked her neck back. My mouth filled with the acid sting of venom I was no longer bothered by, remembering how she had felt, how she had tasted. It had taken years- decades, really- to get used to the reflex that sex and hunger always evoked. The gentle sigh of penetration, the pulsing of the neck. A lip gently bitten, eyes half-closed in silently screaming ecstasy. Oh, yes. I was a good lay, a careful vampire. My intended victims were no longer drained; not since my First. I wouldn't forget her name, but I wouldn't dishonor her death by mentioning it, either.

Slightly annoyed by my morose memories, I wiped the dust away from the slanted lettering of her name and dates, saying a silent "thank you" to She who had made me the way I was today. A cold and calculated seducer of women.

I had needed something to keep me occupied after all the years. One got tired of perfection when it came to sonatas and foreign languages. Women? A mystery that I would spend my existence studying. I might know all the right buttons to push, but their motivations and emotions still baffled me, even though I could hear their thoughts. They simply made no sense.

I felt more than saw the coming dawn, so I sprinted back to the house, slightly irritated that I hadn't hunted. I had spent much more time at Forks Cemetery than I had wanted, and I was annoyed at my piss-poor planning. Hopefully, my first day at Forks Hospital wouldn't involve a lot of blood. I doubted there were many emergencies beyond hooking one's own finger while angling or getting crushed by wayward falling trees while in the pursuit of lumber.

"Good morning, Esme," I said, smiling as she made her way downstairs. She had that proud mother look about her as she handed me a freshly ironed shirt and pants.

"Your lab coat is in the closet. Do be friendly today, Edward," she said, flipping a tie around my neck loosely and giving the two ends a good tug. I gave her a lopsided grin and patted her head.

"Don't worry, Mother," I said before correcting myself, "I mean, _Sister_. Your darling boy will uphold the name Cullen." She playfully slapped my shoulder, pinching my arm and thinking loudly.

_Of that, I have no doubt. Let's stay here longer this time, okay?_

She never knew why we left, only that I wanted to be gone. I had never told anyone why.

My answering grimace made her pause, but I didn't give her time to voice her questions as I bounded up the stairs, my freshly pressed clothes flying behind me. _Let's stay longer this time._

I doubted there would be anything that would make me want to leave.

Hours later, I was regretting my tempting fate by giving pause to my doubts.

Forks was just as boring as I had remembered.

Emmett's predictions about the fascination of the nursing staff were regrettably true.

I had the opportunity to stitch up a man who had, indeed, cut himself while gutting a fish.

One of the nurses was Quileute and stared a little too long in my direction, but her thoughts remained vampire-free; I decided she was simply fascinated by my looks. That was the most exciting thing to happen all morning.

Then _it_ hit me, just as I was "taking a lunch break".

Maddening. Maddeningly familiar, and maddeningly delicious. What was that smell?

It kicked the venom trickle in my mouth, which kicked my sex drive into gear. I had been so good all day, and I was always annoyed when my carefully-controlled urges had to go and show themselves. Irritated at my slip, I muttered to the assisting nurse my orders before thanking the patient I was with and rushing out the door. I took a steadying breath, wondering what exactly had just happened.

It was stronger, that smell. I choked on it and welcomed it. Fuck, but I needed to find it. I knew I had smelled it before, I had to have. Like my mother's freshly baked bread and the first time I had kissed a girl and other human memories, the scent crashed around in my head, confusing my brain and waking me up for the first time in years. Decades.

God damned Forks. I blamed my odd reaction on returning to the scene of past crimes. It must be something human, because if I had smelled it as a vampire, I'd certainly remember it.

But with each unnecessary breath, my feet took me toward the smell, my steps growing heavier as I fought to keep my venom and erection in check. How confusing. And wonderfully irritating. My body was buzzing, anticipating finding the smell so that I could- I wasn't sure what, exactly, but I'd know when I got there.

I became aware through a bizarre, foggy clarity that I could hear Carlisle's thoughts and voice.

"Three stitches. Four, max." _This is the daughter I heard so much about_.

"Let me find a nurse. Is there someone I can call?" _Uneasy chuckle. I hope Edward doesn't meet this one; she's beautiful and taken._

And then a low purr, wild and murmured, tugging at a spot just below my navel as it said, "No, Doctor Cullen. Jacob is unavailable right now." Another wave of delicious, but I was no longer able to discern between what I was smelling and what I was hearing.

I stood in the empty, curtained area as my father/brother scribbled something on a chart. A flash of brown, and then a wave of that _smell._ My mouth filled, and I gulped down the bitter hunger and warm, rich scent as I was hit with another wave.

Carlisle had turned to face me, fully aware I was there, and his eyebrows shot up in his trademark look of concern as he took me in. I must have seemed a wild animal, but I didn't register his expression because I was too busy locking eyes with the most luscious human I had encountered in a hundred years.

There was blood smeared on her arm, blood pulsing through her veins. Blood being pressed in and out of a heart that was beating in tandem with my ragged breathing. For one infinitesimal half-second we were frozen, and every joint in my body clenched when she said, "You must be the other Doctor Cullen."

Say my name.

"Oh, yes. This is my brother, Edward. He followed me here, although I don't-" I heard my father's words explain; babble, really. I heard him, but I didn't listen to anything except her name.

"Edward, meet Isabella Swan."

"Bella," she automatically corrected, her eyes never leaving my face. She had a perplexed expression and exactly forty-seven freckles across the bridge of her nose.

And a drop of blood collecting on the edge of the slice on her arm.

"Bella," I murmured, nodding and coming to. I held my breath and muttered an excuse to Carlisle about getting back to my patient.

I had to get out of there. But I found I didn't want to move.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dedicated to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 3**

"I'm not supposed to leave you alone for a second, Bella. Sorry," Seth said, his boy-like face grinning at me from through the screen door.

"Seth. I will be fine for fifteen minutes. My kitchen will _not_ be fine if a pack of hungry wolves shows back up here, and I don't have at least two pounds of potato salad."

"Then we go together."

"I'm finishing the sandwiches, Seth. They'll be back in fifteen minutes. I'll take the Jake wrath. You just go. Quickly."

"Not happening."

"Are you turning down a request from your Alpha's girl?"

"Yes. But in turn, I'm honoring a request directly from the Alpha," Seth winked.

"What exactly did he say?" I asked.

"He said, 'If a vampire so much as gets in a five mile radius of Bella, I will have you neutered when you're not in wolf form'. I love you Bella, but not that much," Seth finished, gesturing below his waist.

"Well, are there vampires around?"

"No."

"Then you've done your job. Now go get my potato salad," I said, grateful the youngest of the pack got nominated to babysit me. He would cave; he always did.

Seth groaned in indecision, which was pointless—he'd already given in.

"You better protect my junk, Bella."

"Thank you, Seth," I sang from the kitchen.

"Don't get me killed, Bella," he sang flatly back.

I was just cutting a crisp, neat diagonal line into the twenty-fifth and final salami on rye sandwich and feeling quite smug about the impressive display I put together on the platter while managing no bloodshed when it happened.

I got too cocky too soon and made a perfect diagonal slice into my left ring finger instead of the sandwich.

Of course, it didn't hurt initially—a sharp blade slice never hurts at first- but when I flinched and held my hand up over my face, the pain set in as I watched the blood, slow at the beginning, then much faster, seeping down to Jake's ring…tarnishing it in bright red loss.

"Shoot," I hissed and smacked up on the cold water tap. I stuck my hand underneath, waiting for the water to run clear, but it remained pink and red for too long.

Stitches.

I grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it tightly around my hand, grabbed my keys from the hook by the front door. I hopped into my truck and drove one-handed all the way from La Push to Forks—to the nearest hospital.

My right hand held tight to the steering wheel and I put the swaddled, injured left hand between my thighs, kind of rocking back and forth and praying that the two traffic lights I'd have to pass would be green.

My eyes darted to the empty passenger seat and I groaned when I realized I'd forgotten my cell phone. The pack, Jake included, would be back for lunch any minute. He'd freak out when he walked in to find a bloody sink, bloody sandwiches and no Bella.

I sighed and told myself I'd call from the hospital. Sue Clearwater, proud pack mother, was the registration desk nurse and always, always let me use her phone. And I do mean always.

I'd been placing "Oh, I'm at the hospital" calls to Jake for, well, eight years now.

When most fifteen-year-old boys were dealing with embarrassing voice cracking, involuntary erections and nocturnal emissions, Jacob was dealing with phasing, unprecedented growth rates, and imprinting.

Well, that last one we both dealt with.

Jacob had been my sandbox buddy, then my prepubescent in braces partner in crime… then, one day, just like that, he became my everything.

Jacob had imprinted on me.

Well, not just like that. The summer he turned fifteen, he dropped off the face of my universe. Without a phone call or a visit or even a half-assed letter…he just stopped being there. And that summer, I went through changes, too. I didn't turn into a werewolf—hell, I barely grew breasts… but I missed Jacob. I missed him in a way I've never missed anyone. I missed him in a kind of desperate way that made my chest hurt. I saw classmates splashing in lakes or taking twilight walks with boys… and I just wanted Jake back.

That's when I knew.

And then it was the end of August, and I was heartbroken and nearly out of hope. Charlie had told me that Billy said he'd sent Jake off to his Aunt's for the summer, but his return was anyone's guess. The whole thing was odd and mysterious—Jake went to live with his aunt? Why? And why hadn't he told me?

On August thirtieth, a day still so vivid and clear in my mind- a day I will never forget- I answered a knock at my door and there was Jacob and his father Billy.

At least, it was a person who faintly resembled the boy I knew and Billy.

He'd grown at least a foot. Jacob had always been two inches taller than me… but he now was towering in my doorway. Jake had cut his once long, thick black hair— it was a mass of wind-blown shine now. His shoulders were wide and overwhelming in the very best kind of way… his chest was broad and strong and oh! His arms were powerful and long— then my eyes met his.

And he was staring.

His penetrating, intense, dark and fascinated stare stayed on my face and I froze. I hadn't changed at all since he saw me last.

"Jake?" I croaked out.

"Bella," he almost whispered, but I could hear the brand new deep bass in his voice. He kind of slightly bent his knees and closer now, his eyes peered into mine.

His full lips curved up into an awed, kind of focused smile and I hesitantly smiled back.

"Oh boy," Billy breathed out from his wheel chair. "Charlie. Will be thrilled," he finished flatly.

Jacob had imprinted.

On me.

And the rest is kind of a blur. Billy had asked where Charlie was, I told him he was out fishing and would be until evening.

Then I was sat on my couch and was told that my best friend and brand new love interest had spent his summer phasing back and forth from human to werewolf. For the most part, he'd been learning to control it, he'd been growing and he'd been being training… to be the Alpha of his pack. To fulfill his birthright.

And if that wasn't enough to make me pass out, Billy then explained imprinting.

He explained to me, a fifteen-year-old awkward, never-been-kissed girl that I was now the reason for existence to this huge man-boy who was my best friend but is now a man… werewolf.

Needless to say, on my part, the entire situation took a very long time to adjust to… and while I took months adjusting, crying and screaming and zoning out and pinching myself, Jacob was there.

Waiting.

Talking.

Listening.

Making me laugh.

Telling me to knock off the girlyness already.

And then gradually- I'm not sure when or how, exactly- but things were good. Better than good. My very best friend and high school crush wanted to live for me. He wanted to see that my every need and want was met. He wanted to love me and care for me and laugh with me— and he just wanted to be mine.

So, when we were twenty, I moved into Jacob's house. We were young for that type of commitment, but it wasn't like the bond of imprinting can suddenly be broken or waver— there would never, ever be anyone else for Jacob, so we decided to start our future as early as possible.

And I was happier than I ever dreamed I would be. I was happy being Jacob's best friend and lover. I was happy making sandwiches for a loud, obnoxious, but endearing pack.

My mind never wandered to any other possibilities— I didn't want anything else for my life. It was more than satisfying— it was downright blissful.

And werewolves. As far as I was concerned, werewolves existed for the purpose of frolicking in the woods for intense, good-natured if immature, rough-housing. To shiver and to quake and to defend me if someone cut in front of me in line at the bank or if an out-of-towner leered at me for too long.

But I was wrong.

Three days ago, Jacob informed me the Cullens were back. The infamous vampire coven who inhabited Forks years ago, long before my or Jacob's birth— was coming back. A closer threat than the one the pack had been protecting from for years, the random marauders who floated near for the hunting grounds.

Plus two.

After hours of listening to the pack rant and shudder and plan strategies, I made a suggestion.

"Why don't you just… tell them to leave?"

I was stared at for ten full and silent seconds before Jacob got up, left the room, and came back with the treaty.

It clearly stated that the vampires could stay, so long as they didn't bite humans or cross boundary lines.

"They don't drink human blood?" I asked.

"They claim to be a civilized coven," Jacob said, his arms beginning to quake. Behind him, Paul and Embry snorted and growled. "They drink animal blood."

"I guess… I'm not seeing the problem," I shrugged.

"They're blood suckers, Bella. A danger to humanity. Walking dead. They're soulless, they can't be considered civil at all. They're monsters."

"Well. Frankly, I've heard horror stories about werewolves, too. I learned eight years ago not to buy into mythical stereotyping."

Jacob put two huge, hot, trembling hands on my face.

"Bells. This is serious. It's a danger. Not for you—I'll protect you with everything that I am… but don't downplay this. Don't make this trivial."

"Got it," I said, then raised to my tiptoes, and he bent to meet me halfway.

His hot lips pushed slow and soft onto mine, then I released him to his pack and their ranting… so I could have a better look at the treaty.

And that was pretty much it.

Until, of course, I arrived at the hospital.

"Sue, I cut my hand and I forgot my phone again—" I started, cradling my hand to my chest.

Sue snapped her head up, and instead of her usual warm and comforting smile, she stared at me with what I could only comprehend as… panic? Fear? Confusion?

"Bella, where's Jacob?" she snapped.

"Out? With the pack?" I stammered, shocked and confused.

She stood up from behind the desk and leaned in very close and conspiracy-like to me. Instinctively, I leaned my head to hers.

"Two new doctors on staff today," she whispered so faint I could barely hear her. "Bella, you have to get out of here… they'll smell Jacob all over you—Bella, they're—"

"Sue!" a smooth, low voice called out and Sue froze for a half second before she pulled back from me. "I'm actually just getting ready to go on lunch, but Dr. Cullen and Dr. Gerandy are all tied up. I'd be happy to take a look at…?"

"Bella," I said. "Bella Swan."

It was no matter that Sue never got to finish her sentence. I knew immediately what this doctor was. White, chalky skin; topaz eyes; blonde, silky hair all set on a head so beautiful I might have blushed.

Vampire.

The doctor went still as a statue for a fraction of a second when I announced my last name.

Then he smiled, warm and compassionate and gesturing for me to follow him.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen," he said, taking a step forward while I just stood there. He turned around and smiled again. "I'm new on staff here, Bella, but I can assure you I have years of experience under my belt. You're in good hands."

His eyes were on mine, warm and comforting and so help me God, I wanted to follow him. I knew he sustained on blood, of course, and I knew he was a predator, but something in his kind warm face just told me… he meant no harm.

I moved to follow Dr. Cullen and heard Sue behind us.

"I'm calling Jacob. Jacob will be here any minute…"

I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be comfort for me or warning for Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

In blurred seconds I was sitting on a flimsy, paper-covered E.R. cot and Dr. Cullen was pulling the pastel multi-colored curtain around us.

"Okay, Bella, let's assess the damage," he said, lightly pulling my hand from my chest, then unraveling the bloodied dishrag. "How'd this happen?"

"Sandwiches. I was cutting sandwiches," I stumbled.

"Hmm. You sure were," he said, then opened a drawer in a portable medicine cabinet just to the left of us. "So… you feed a big family?" he asked casually, producing iodine and what I knew all too well as a suture kit.

"I…" should shut up. "Enough to keep me busy," I smiled.

"I have a big family, myself," he said, sitting down on a stool on wheels. I was sure it was supposed to be some kind of warning- letting me know how big his coven was- but all I could hear in his voice was fatherly pride.

"How many stitches?" I asked, eager to change the subject before I said too much or too little.

"Three stitches. Four, max."

"Oh… is this your job… usually… an intern, or…" I started, because usually, it was an intern. Most ER doctors were too busy to mess with stitches.

"You seem uneasy, Bella. Is there someone I can call?"

"No, Doctor Cullen. My boyfriend is unavailable right now," I said, watching his face closely at the mention of Jacob.

His enemy.

But I noticed no shift in demeanor, no instinctive rage like Jake had shown whenever the name "Cullen" was uttered.

With calm, icy fingers, Dr. Cullen stitched my hand, more quick and less painful than any other doctor had before… and when he was done, he looked up, gave me a quick wink, then spun his stool around.

I looked up to the doorway-

-and it was precisely then that I knew ancient laws and love lore phenomenon weren't always fair.

My breathing just ceased to be and my mouth hung slightly open, slack and weak.

If there were other sensations, I didn't feel them.

Of course I hadn't felt them.

The world had just stopped.

I was staring into the most intense, penetrating, gorgeous eyes that had ever existed. I was staring into a whole new kind of bliss, I was staring into a hundred deaths and the miracle of rebirth. I was locked, eye-to-eye, with Jacob's undoing.

And so help me God, for the lives of all of us, I couldn't look away.

And everything in me didn't want it to be true. Everything in me wanted to run home to my Jacob and my family and never, ever have laid eyes on _him_.

But… I couldn't.

Jake had once compared imprinting to strings; it was as if I was the only string holding him to this earth-that the moment he saw me that summer, all of the other strings had been clipped, and I was the only thing keeping him alive.

I'd never understood the full gravity of what he was saying.

Until now.

Still, I had to find a voice. I had to know for sure if this was a Cullen… if this was going to be war.

"You must be the other Doctor Cullen," I ventured, not realizing I was even capable of speech.

"Oh, yes. This is my brother, Edward. He followed me here, although I don't really regard him as my little brother, more of a peer. Edward, meet Isabella Swan."

"Bella," I automatically corrected, staring at Edward Cullen, final name on the treaty.

"Bella," he repeated, nodding his head, like he was looking for clarity through the fog, and my name on his lips sealed what I already knew was done.

Then the curtain ripped back with a violent flourish and the metal rings screeched and pulled on the chrome rod.

Jake loomed there, trembling and dark, his black eyes darting from Carlisle to me to Edward then back again.

There was a hiss, a sound I'd never heard before, a sound more menacing and feral than the howling and growls I was accustomed to.

Jake shuddered violently and on the other side of me, I noticed Edward move slightly, looking like a stalking lion about to pounce.

"Out. Out," Carlisle ordered Edward, who didn't move at all.

Jacob reached out with one arm and scooped me off the table by my waist and I noticed Edward's crouch deepen.

"You stay the hell away, Leech. You stay the hell away or I'll rip your frozen, soulless body apart piece by piece… and gladly burn the pieces."

Jacob's words made me cry out, but he assumed it was from fear.

Shockingly, Edward made no move toward Jake. His eyes stayed on me.

"You're right," Edward said through unmoving lips. "I don't want to make you mad."

Jacob's hot skin turned impossibly hotter, almost blistering against mine.

"Mind reader," he spat out.

"Yep. And the only reason your head is still on your neck is because phasing into a dog while manhandling a woman can only bring danger to her."

Then in a white hot, blurry blaze Jake had run me out of the E.R., out of the hospital and through the parking lot… and we didn't stop until we were somewhere deep in the woods.

Sick and dazed and shamed to my bones, I sank onto the mossy marsh, where I swear I could actually feel pieces and chunks of my life break apart and swirl chaotically away.

Jake- phased and growling- ran and prowled, whined and tore at trees… until the sharp sobs coming from my chest finally called him back to human form.

"Did he hurt you? Are you hurt?"

"No," I gulped and swallowed.

"I was so fucking scared, Bella. I thought…shit! I'll have to kill them. All of them…"

I whined out "no"; I protested, but Jacob wasn't listening… already, he was communicating with a far away pack.

I watched him pace and shout endlessly, I watched him worry for me and rage for me… and I let myself sink lower to the ground.

Because in the middle of all of this, in this unbearable shame and this utter disgust for myself… there was one thing that was stronger than all of that… the pull I felt toward that hospital.

The utter animalistic need to be near my lover's enemy.

This shouldn't be possible… he imprinted on me. I always believed we were sealed by fate, by something much more powerful than the two of us…

And then a thought occurred to me that I'd never before thought to ask about.

What happens if the imprintee rejects the imprinter?

Of course, that has never happened— who in their right mind wouldn't want to be with the man who had imprinted on them?

Still.

I'd been taught and I had believed that nothing was stronger or more sacred than the bond of imprinting. Clearly, I'd been lied to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

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	4. Chapter 4

**Dedicated, as always, to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 4**

**Edward**

Just like that, everything was different.

I couldn't recall the last time I had felt so conflicted- probably because I was human when I had that sort of emotional response to anything.

_Bite_. I had wanted to drink. The thirst never really went away, although this hospital stay was designed for me to work on my control. An exercise in futility, perhaps.

_Fuck_. Of course I wanted to. That, too, was something I was unable (unwilling) to control.

And yet-

Possess.

_Yes_.

I must have her.

Even before the wolf showed up, I wanted to have her.

Not to bite or kill or fuck.

Was it her scent? The blood. Oh God, the blood. Sweet and salt and thick. Like all blood and yet- not. One elegant little drop; one smooth, slick slide down a creamy curve of a finger. Broken capillaries and sliced flesh, enough to sting in sweet pain, enough to sate the hunger that always pervaded, always penetrated, always interjected every civil exchange I would ever want to have with any human.

Perhaps I simply needed to hunt. I had been stupid to waste time reminiscing about past errors in decorum.

I rushed as slowly as I could to an empty bed, yanking the curtain and ripping a few connections as I did. I leaned against the siderail, panting and collecting myself as best I could. I must have looked frightening, so I allowed mundane thoughts to trickle into my awareness, not focusing, consciously letting my mind wander to avoid thinking about her.

It wasn't working.

"Edward," I heard Carlisle call out. He was walking toward me, his expensive loafers tapping out a worried tune as he, too, hurried at a human crawl.

"Yes?" I turned warily, ignoring his pained look as he entered the curtained bed.

"Do you-"

"I'm fine."

"You're sure." His voice was fatherly concern, his tone a warning.

"Of course," I replied testily.

_We'll need to have a family meeting about_ this, he thought, and before he could continue, I defended myself, anger creeping into my voice.

"No. I'm _fine_. I will not make us leave again." I would get a grip, as they say.

_Leave, Edward_? Even his internal voice sounded disbelieving, like he couldn't understand why my reaction was really that strong.

"She won't be a problem," I heard myself mumble. Unless you consider the mother of a wolf pack a problem.

"She?" His eyebrows raised, and I realized too late that he had been referring to the wolves, and not Isabella.

_Bella_, my mind automatically corrected. She prefers to be called Bella.

"Any of them," I said quickly, needing him to believe the lie. I had to get out of there.

"Why don't you go get yourself something to eat," he said, smiling grimly and patting my shoulder.

"I, too, hope it's the hunger," I said, replying to his thoughts. It was probably the hunger.

I waved at several staff members as I made my way toward the ambulance bay. In the short few days we had been there, I had already met every single employee of the hospital. While less than an hour had passed, it was already common knowledge that the new resident had a tiff with the Big Man out on the reservation. Fantastic. We Cullens always made a splash; rarely was it in such a near-inhuman display of drama, but there's a first time for everything.

Thankful for the rain, I dashed off into the surrounding tree line, grateful for once at the lack of excitement in the town being able to hide my desperation to overanalyze what had just happened.

I replayed in my head every detail of the incident, ignoring that I was focusing with a mental caress on every image of Bella Swan.

I noticed that while she wore a ring on her third finger… Jacob did not.

Her name was Swan. Not Black.

I already knew she was his. The scent of his mark on her was unmistakable, now that I was able to recognize it for what it was. I had only been able to focus on the boil in my blood when I saw her, when I smelled her fully. I smiled in embarrassment, realizing that I was like a human male who was rendered blind by hormones and pheromones and the promise of sex.

I had to replay the incident over and over, feeling my tension and anger flowing out of my legs and footsteps with each pound on the forest floor. Carlisle's disbelieving stare and following glare as Jacob burst in; Bella's shocked look and was it guilt? as she was whisked into his hulking arms. Her uneven breathing as she placed a small hand on the beast's chest. The crack of her neck as she swiveled her head, panicked, looking from her wolf to me.

She didn't know what to say. I could see it.

But I couldn't hear it.

I came to a full stop right there in the middle of the woods, a brief break in the tree tops letting dusty sunshine line my lashes. I saw flashes and dots in my vision, and I didn't know if they were reflections or my own woozy revelation as I realized I couldn't remember her thoughts.

I had never heard them.

I had been so blinded by the rush of venom to both my mouth and dick that I hadn't noticed that I _couldn't hear her fucking thoughts._

As if I needed another reason to see her again.

Who was this Isabella Swan, and how could I get onto the reservation without breaking the treaty?

All excellent questions.

I forced myself to hunt, knowing that I would not be able to get any answers with both my thirst and lust leading me around; at the very least, I could slake the need for blood. I continued, deeper into the forest, forcing the clear air into my useless lungs, directing my thoughts with each breath.

Bella. _Breathe_. Wolf. _Exhale_.

Right. The wolf. Her low rasp and furious gasp as he took her from me, her pained expression that I could not yet identify. My mind was already defending it, hoping she was annoyed with her rescuer for taking her away.

I couldn't be certain. I had never tried to analyze anyone's expression for. I hadn't really needed to.

Enigma. Isabella Swan was an enigma.

As I allowed the hunting instinct to control my body, my mind traced over her features, imagining how her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she saw me next. I ignored the reality that creeped in- that she would most likely sic her dogs on me when we met again- instead thinking of her hair, of her finger with the faint trace of blood on it, hastily rubbed on her jeans. The blood. _Crack_ of the neck as I reach my prey; crack of her neck as she glared at either me or Jacob.

Mm last thoughts as I sank my teeth into the hot, spurting flow of blood were of Bella- an imagined moment as I traced my nose down her neck. Her pulsing vein, the tiny capillaries under her sweet sweaty skin like pinprick stars in the sky. I would stare at them, pondering my place in the universe and how she would be when with me.

But the last thing I could remember was the exhilarating and completely unsatisfying mouthful of blood as I envisioned Bella and the accompanying erection as I mentally replaced the deer in front of me with her warm body.

XXXXXXX

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	5. Chapter 5

**If you're not posting over at A Different Forest, well- whaddya waiting for?**

**Dedicated, as always, to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 5**

**Bella**

"The patriarch treated her," Jacob said, pacing around the cramped living room where six massive, trembling young men were fighting for self-control.

I sat on the couch and stared at my stitched hand, concentrating very hard on not concentrating very hard.

I felt transparent—like at any moment Jacob and the rest of the pack would look over at me and see a traitor.

A liar.

An enemy.

I looked up at Jacob and stared hard and with searching eyes. I silently willed him to show me something, show me my future and my laughter and my smile and my love, Jacob!—reflect it all back to me, so I can know for certain…

So I can know that the sick and utterly wrong attraction at the hospital was nothing.

So I can be reassured of my place and my choices and my life…

But still.

I'd never needed reassurance before.

I'd never questioned my future before.

I thought back to the previous hours—when that intense pull was still so strong while Jacob raged in the woods…

I'd managed to clear my head—minimally. So while the pack ranted and planned, I closed my eyes tightly and tried to find my sense, my loyalty and the person I was mere hours ago.

Surely, I can't be affected this thoroughly—surely no one's entire life and loyalty and everything cannot be shaken by a tumultuous five minute meeting with a stranger.

Surely.

Yet- a tiny, fifteen-year-old voice in the back of my mind was screaming one thing:

August thirtieth.

August thirtieth.

Of course, the day Jacob took one look at me and imprinted. The day his mind and body overruled common sense and laws of attraction and society and decided to only live for me.

I, of all people, was all too aware that sometimes this could be possible.

I learned long ago not to write off mythical legends and all things fairy tale lore… and I always equated it to dreams coming true, fantasy and magic. But I was beginning to see it meant nightmares were possible as well.

Because I didn't want this.

"Bells? Bells, you alright?" Jake asked, shaking me from my fast nightmare.

"Yeah, yes…I just think I'd like to lay down… my hand hurts," I lied.

"Sure, sure, I'll walk you upstairs," Jacob said, and in a flash scooped me up from the couch and into hot, familiar arms.

"I can walk, Jake."

"I can carry you just as easy. Hell, probably easier," he said, kind of smiling down at me for the first time in hours.

"Funny," I said and let myself lean back in his arms, because that's where I belonged—or so I told myself.

"You," Jake said, nodding his head toward Seth, "stay put. I wanna talk to you."

Seth glared at me.

"Aw, Jake, leave Seth alone. It wasn't his fault," I said, and we were already halfway up the stairs.

"He knows what he did wrong," Jacob said.

"He left. Because I told him to. And if he was sitting on the porch, I still would've cut my hand and believe me, I wouldn't have let Seth stitch it. I would've been at the hospital either way."

Jake sat on the bed and I scooted off of his lap, careful of my hand.

"I wish you healed as quickly as me," he murmured, his eyes on the bandage.

"Human," I grinned.

"Exactly," Jacob said his reply darker than I wanted it to be. "I've never been more aware of how fragile you are, Bell."

"Jake—"

"Bella. Bella, you have to promise me you'll stay away from that hospital—"

"Um, have you met me? Jacob, that's ridiculous! It's the only hospital for miles and most of my hospital visits are urgent. I can't go all the way to Port Angeles every time I… look. They could be here for a very long time; making that promise would be ridiculous."

Jacob's eyes widened incredulously.

"Ridiculous?! Bella, promise me. Promise me you'll stay away from the Cullens."

Completely unwarranted and completely unexpected, his request made my throat tighten and my insides screamed in protest—though I shouldn't have felt like that.

I knew I shouldn't have felt like that.

I knew his request was warranted and well-intentioned.

"I will be safe," I replied through unmoving lips, full knowing I hadn't promised him what he wanted.

"No bribing any members of the pack to get lost, either," Jacob said, and intense guilt washed over me when I realized he thought I'd conceded…but there was also a tiny light of triumph in a tiny dark side of me.

"You know, Jacob," I started slowly, knowing this would be futile, "Dr. Cullen was really nice… he stitched my hand without a problem at all… he even cleaned the blood. And, well, I felt safe, taken care of—"

Jake held one trembling hand up and stared at me hard and I knew he was fighting for self-control, so I quieted.

"They're phenomenal predators, Bella. They want to lure you in… that's why you felt so at ease. They want you to play into it, just like you did," he said slowly, trying to explain it rationally.

"Okay," I said simply, though I didn't for a second believe that Dr. or Dr. Cullen would harm me. I hated to see Jacob struggle; I hated to see him plagued with worry.

"You rest now. No jumping on the bed," he grinned limply, trying to bring some of us back to us.

I smiled back and lay down, wishing to God I didn't feel the sudden gaping space between us.

I'd never lied to Jake before.

"We'll all be right downstairs," he said when he reached the door. "I'll send Embry out to circle the house… Paul and Sam will see to the boundary lines… nothing will get near here."

I shivered at his supposed comforting words and then the door closed behind him.

Three days later, I was at the lake doing something I haven't done since I was sixteen.

Sucker dipping with one bandaged, stitched finger was a feat, but I needed this.

I thought maybe if I just… went back to how it _was_—if I did the things I used to do and remembered _me_, things would all fall back into place.

I'd forget to think about Edward Cullen and go back to a time where Jacob was the only thing I ever thought of.

And frankly, I needed the quiet.

Embry was near, or kind of near, circling the lake— and as long as I couldn't see him or hear him, that was okay.

I dropped the pole and the net in the sand and waded in, ankle deep.

When I was a kid, I was quick enough to catch minnows and small blue gill with my hands.

Suddenly, I needed to know that I still could.

I bent down and let my hands hover over the water and I waited.

Patiently and quietly, I'd wait until the end of time for all of the old me to come back, just so I could know that part of me was still there—unchanged and thriving.

Finally, after I don't know how long, a tiny silver fish darted around and I quickly plunged my hands in the murky water, to trap him still.

To hold on to him and laugh in his fish face when I proved nothing had changed.

He got away.

I growled in frustration and willed him to come back.

I let my dripping hands hover again and sure enough, the idiot fish came back.

This time, I waited. I concentrated hard on his flashing scales and paper thin profile.

I inched closer, determined to recapture everything that was mine.

Closer.

Closer.

Then I saw a white blur and felt a cold breeze over my back.

I gasped when I tried to scream. The shock knocked the air out of my lungs.

"You gotta be fast with fish."

I stumbled and turned in the water and just behind me, Edward Cullen was holding up the blue gill.

He was flopping wildly and his gills were pumping and struggling for life.

Edward Cullen had _captured my proof._

"Put it back," I scratched out, too pathetically, and sounding like a PETA activist.

He sniffed the fish once, made a disgusted face, then tossed the fish back into the lake.

"Just trying to help. I don't care for fish much myself—and never freshwater fish. When I have to, I only eat saltwater fish. But I prefer larger species."

"How did you—I didn't even hear you."

"Most people don't. I scared you."

"No."

"Of course I did."

"Is there something you want?"

"Only everything," he said, then he laughed, soft and low and all to himself.

"I don't get the joke. And you—you shouldn't be here. It's not your territory or whatever."

"How's the finger?"

He was staring now, at the bandage, with black eyes and closed lips.

"Fine," I said, and jerked my hand behind my back.

One corner of his mouth turned up and his eyebrows raised.

I stood frozen or hypnotized or at my own betraying will and he leaned in very close to me.

My breaths were coming too loud and too hard and it seemed enough to shake the earth—or maybe that was just in contrast to him not breathing at all.

His head bent and his lips hovered near my ear, cool and refreshing and so help me God when I moved a fraction, it was only to lean in closer to him.

"Hiding it behind your back doesn't really help. I can still smell the open wound," he whispered, so quietly and so low I had to strain to hear it despite the fact that he was so close.

"Sorry," I whispered, because it seemed like I should.

He straightened up and took a step back from me.

"Don't be. It's delicious," he said.

I should have wanted to scream out for Embry or Jacob or God—but I didn't.

"Don't turn white. You're much prettier all red," Edward said, and then a wolf howled and Edward rolled his black eyes to the grey sky—and then he was gone.

And that, I _was_ sorry about.

And that was horrible.

I dove in the lake, fully clothed and shivering… because Embry was on his way back and Embry would smell enemy all over me.

I just wasn't sure how much that had to do with me or Edward Cullen.

Two days later, I was in Port Angeles browsing the aisles of the drugstore while Jake was four doors down, at the Auto Parts store.

I wasn't supposed to leave the store until Jacob returned, and I felt a tinge of guilt when I hoped he'd be awhile.

I needed the time alone.

I picked up a trial-sized shampoo, unscrewed the cap, sniffed it, and then replaced it. And that's how I made my way down the aisle.

I reached down to grab my seventh bottle when so fast I didn't even know how it happened, the bottle of shampoo was replaced with a worn, tattered copy of Guy Endore's _The Werewolf of Paris._

I jumped and blinked and the book shook in my hands.

"I know. Scary stuff. But I figured it'd be right up your alley."

I looked over my shoulder and up at Edward Cullen who was standing too close or maybe not close enough to me.

He wore this half smile and his eyes were dark and challenging, like a taunting bully on a child's playground.

"Not funny," I said. and turned to slap the book back into his chest. It hit with a hollow thwack and my wrist and hand ached from the impact.

I tried not to let my eyes show my surprise and intrigue.

He was like…_steel_.

"Come on. It's kind of funny," he said, and I pressed the book harder into his chest, but he didn't move to hold it.

"No, LeStat, it's not."

"LeStat? Really? No way. Le Stat is a pissed-off oppressed homosexual control freak—"

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'm a pissed-off heterosexual control freak. Completely different. Besides, I think of myself more as the Nosferatu type—"

"Hah!"

His face went blank and he licked along his lower lip while he leaned down and into me.

"No? Don't you find me…threatening?"

I shook my head and didn't move.

He leaned closer, and his mouth was inches from my neck.

"Don't you find yourself shaking for your life when I'm near?" he whispered.

"No."

"Then what, Bella, is it about me that has you trembling?"

I took a step back and let the book drop to the floor between us.

"You're far too pretty to be compared to Nosferatu."

He straightened up and raised his eyebrows.

"Am I now?"

"In all fairness, so is LeStat," I said and turned back to the shampoos.

"You are betrothed to a dog, so I'll take everything you say regarding my physical appearance with a grain of salt."

"Betrothed?"

"Betrothed. It means—"

"I know what betrothed means. You just don't hear people tossing that word around in conversation these days."

"I'm aware. The beauty of the English language has been lost over time. So, in your modern day lingo, what I meant was 'Your boo is a mutt. Anything you say about my mug or my grill or whatever—"

"Since when do vampires moonlight as comedians?"

"Since I've found a reason to smile."

I stopped mid-reach in the aisle, and when I turned to look at him, he wasn't laughing or smiling, he was just staring at me so intense and so earnest, I forgot to breathe.

But then he took a deep breath in through his nose and disappeared, almost before my eyes.

"Bells? I'm all set," I heard Jacob call behind me.

I turned and he was swinging a plastic bag in his hand and then his smile froze.

"Let's go. Now."

He wrapped his huge, hot arm around my shoulders and I didn't even feel my feet move as I floated out of the store.

In the truck ,Jake looked at me before he started the engine.

"There was a leech in there. Shit! They're _everywhere_, Bella. Everywhere."

Everywhere.


	6. Chapter 6

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**Chapter 6**

**Edward**

"Edward, I need you to step away from me," Jasper said testily. I suppose I had been trying his patience lately, what with my sexual frustration exploding in little fits of irritation and anger. Only Jasper knew the cause of my outbursts, but in honoring that brotherly bond that had brought us closer in the last fifty years or so, he didn't say a word about it. I figured Alice might have suspected as she kept giving me these sidelong glances, but every time I tried to get a read on her, she'd be singing those Black Eyed Peas or reciting a Young Adult novel in Russian, and I'd have to walk away to keep from hitting her.

"Sorry, Jasper," I muttered. I had been trying for the better part of a week to refrain from letting my need to fuck dictate my actions, and I was barely succeeding. Problem was, I wasn't able to control myself from letting my emotions get out of whack, so Jasper had been steering clear of me.

_Can't you just go to Seattle for a night and relieve your needs? _ We had been doing most of our direct communication silently for years now, unless we needed to put on a front for the humans. Jasper's and my bond was much stronger than that of the rest of the family- our two powers were so similar that we had each learned to cope in similar ways. Alice and I were tight as well, but her need to constantly change the outcome of the mundane along with the life-altering had gotten on my nerves ages ago; it took much longer to reconcile Alice's tendencies to butt in than it had for me to get used to being around humans without the all-consuming need to feed or fuck.

I considered Jasper's suggestion for about one second before immediately dismissing it. I would have pretended to really think about it, but he would've detected my guilt and called me out on it. The last thing I needed was for the rest of the family's attention to be on me in this time. I was desperately trying to remain neutral-faced, not letting anyone know that I was nearly jumping out of my unblemished skin. It was all I could do daily to not run out to La Push and… I wasn't quite ready to admit to myself what I wanted to do, but it definitely involved the large hard-on I suddenly sported.

Jasper raised his eyebrow at me. _See? You need to relieve your needs._ He subtly crossed one ankle over his knee and shifted, and Alice perked up when the vision attacked her brain and therefore mine. She reached over and ran a finger from Jasper's knee and up his inner thigh, tracing little circles around his dick that made a _scricking_ sound across his khakis.

"Alice, I'm trying to concentrate here," Emmett complained. He was using my piano as a table, typing about 400 words a minute and nearly breaking his shiny new MacBook. "I can't very well write about Iwo Jima when you're trying to fuck Jasper before class begins. He's shooting some nasty horndog vibes."

"Then you should have done your homework last night," Rosalie said through pursed lips, swiftly ironing the pleats into her skirt. Rose and Emmett had decided to go to Forks Community College and get matching degrees in interior design. Emmett wanted to pretend to be gay, but Rose had threatened him with regular missionary position sex for the rest of the century, and he had sadly given up the dream.

"You know I like a challenge, Rosie," he returned, clacking with a recklessness that amused him. "I mean, I was at Iwo Jima, so this paper is a snap."

"And I was at Woodstock. Why does every vampire claim to have been in every war? Personally, I'd never like to see battle again," Jasper muttered, his accent becoming slightly more pronounced as scenes from his Confederate days flashed into his mind like a paparazzo catching him in the darkness. He managed to maintain his cool exterior despite the turmoil the scenes caused in his brain; to his credit, no one except me and Alice even noticed. He had these war flashbacks still, 150 years later, and while he couldn't necessarily control his body's immediate reaction to blood, he was rather adept at hiding the PTSD.

Maybe I needed to take a page from his book. I noticed Alice eyeing me curiously, so I turned my head slightly and allowed her thought volume to increase in my mind.

_What do you have going on today, Edward?_ Shit. She must've seen something in my future. I wish I had been paying attention to the vision. I shrugged slightly and flicked my eyebrow up a half centimeter.

_It's just-_ I could hear the lisp of her unfinished thought, the trailing question indicative. Jasper turned his head toward us, possibly feeling Alice's unease. What had she seen?

_You should leave the wolf's girl alone_.

Whatever, Alice. I shifted slightly, letting her know that I didn't want to speak of it.

_Your… future is uncertain, Edward. I'm a little perplexed, but_-

"Butt out, Mary Alice," I said quietly. Emmett stopped typing and Rosalie snapped the iron's plug from the wall. I felt a wave of anger slap the back of my eyeballs and saw Jasper cracking his neck to the side.

"What I do on my days off is my own concern," I said, feeling compelled to explain and feeling irritated about it.

"You'd best apologize for that, friend," Jasper said, low and clear and clearly threatening. Ah, fuck. I hadn't meant to snap at her, but my mind was so confused and being with my family had actually felt relaxing for a change and-

"I didn't mean to snap at you, Ali. But could you please let me sort things out on my own?"

She looked at me with troubled, watery eyes and stretched her neck slightly, shooting me the vision she had that was the cause for concern.

It was nothing. Blackness. I knew it to be a vision because it was disorienting as always, but it was… oddly absent.

_I can't see you anymore, Edward. And it scares the shit out of me. Please, be careful. I trust you, but be careful._

"I will see you guys later," I said, grabbing my keys and heading for the door.

I decided to go to Port Angeles for my day off. Maybe I needed to find a temporary distraction. Running into Bella had been accidental at the lake and well, at that local chemist, I had caught her light and lovely fragrance in a breeze and followed it on a whim. Perhaps leaving the town limits of Forks would be more fruitful.

_Twenty minutes later_

Unbelievable. The one bookstore I go to. Girls who read often have nastier sexual appetites, and picking up on them at little bookstores is usually easy. But this time…

"Edward," Bella said when she rounded a corner, smacking her face right in my chest and faltering a half-step backward. She rubbed the tip of her nose with her palm and looked up at me. Damn, I'll never get used to this. If I could read her thoughts, I would've heard her coming a mile away. The damned coffee aroma was too strong, so I didn't smell her amongst the konas and veronas and freshly delivered biscotti. I suppose that's what I get for picking up girls at mass-market book retailers.

"I-" She didn't finish. You what, beautiful? Can't stop thinking about me? Want to run away screaming whenever you see me? Are sick of puppies and are ready for a real-

"I gotta go," she finally finished.

"The sex guides are on the other side of the store," I called out. "You know, in case your puppy can't-"

I stopped myself, open-mouthed laughing and probably flashing my too-long canines. That often happened when I was amused or turned on or both. She was double flipping me off behind her back as she stomped away. I was almost positive she was grinning because of the way her ears lifted, but I couldn't see the flash of pleasure in her head.

_A few days later_

"Fucking Masen. Get the fuck off of me, before I break off your dick and hide it," Emmett yelled at me, smacking the back of my head. Esme was downstairs in a trice, and I felt more than heard the snap of fluffy fabric hitting my eyeballs. That woman was a crack shot with the locker room towel snap, and she used it often when we got unruly.

Nothing was working. I kept trying to bide my time, but every minute that passed was an eternity, more so than usual. I tried to stay past the twelve hour shift I had been scheduled for at the hospital, but I was urged to "be young, go have some fun" by the staff. Fine, be young. Rasslin' Emmett was fun.

"Boys. This is an antique and irreplaceable. Your father can't very well beat Oscar Wilde at billiards again, can he?" Esme clucked. She used the dishtowel to swipe at an imaginary spot and neatly lifted the coffee table where Emmett's feet rested, picking up a small bit of dirt. As she sashayed away, Emmett shot me a dirty look and jabbed his thumb toward the door, mouthing "Now" at me. Excellent.

Five minutes later, we were racing down the winding dirt road that led from our house to the straight dirt road that took us to town. Emmett had been all about muscle cars for the last decade or so, and I had taken to finding the ones he wanted before he did. I was much better at utilizing internet search engines than my brother, what can I say?

We were neck-and-neck as we approached town; I became aware that there was a deputy hiding out behind a sign advertising for fishing at the reservation. Perfect. I smirked and pushed the pedal to the floor, shifting and grinning as Emmett answered in kind.

The tell-tale lights of Forks' Finest flashed somewhere behind us, and it felt good playing this kind of chicken with Emmett. We hadn't bonded for a while, and it was always more fun to get in trouble together than anything else.

We found ourselves sitting at the station about twenty minutes later; our cars ("Babies, Edward. Have a little pride.") had been impounded, and we were waiting for a hopefully disapproving Carlisle to show up.

And then, of course.

"Dad, I brought you your… pastrami." Bella walked in, looking frazzled and still bandaged and blushing and heart-startingly adorable.

_I don't think it's going away._

"You. What're you doing here?" She was flushed and breathing heavy, like she had been running. _Hello there_. I heard Emmett checking her out and I wanted to kick him under the desk we were sharing, but I couldn't help it. I smiled at her. Not a goofy smile, nor an inviting one. Just a simple "Hello there", like Emmett had said.

_I don't want it to go away._

"Are you the Chief's daughter?" Emmett was saying. He had stuck his hand out and she had shaken it, too dazed to put on that protective "oh no, a vampire" look she tried to adopt around me. Her face was still flushed, but she managed to look a little wary as she introduced herself to Emmett and tried not to look my way.

Of course, she failed. Her eyes kept flicking across my body, and I decided to let them. It felt good to have her looking. Tingly, even.

I became aware that a whole conversation between the Chief, who had just walked in, and my brother was going on. I even realized that I had joined in at the appropriate times, as did Bella. It was odd to be looking right at someone and have no clue what was going on in their mind, but I rather welcomed the change. It was refreshingly annoying, really.

The momentary spell lasted until my father walked into the tiny little station; he had to say my name several times before I responded.

"Yes?" I said lazily, turning my head slightly, maintaining the weird eye contact with Bella. But my voice seemed to have awoken her as well, for she shook her head slightly and that furrow dimpled in between her eyebrows again.

"Later, Dad," she said, rushing out, and I chuckled lightly, ducking my head as I thought-heard the Chief wonder what the hell had gotten into his daughter.

What, indeed.

Fuck it. I had the early shift at work the following day, so I figured I'd go out to Port Angeles or one of the other neighboring towns. Keep myself busy so I'd stop thinking about the Chief's little girl.

Hours later I found myself outside her window, keeping myself still. One of the younger wolves was nearby, disturbed and agitated- only he couldn't figure out why. I think those little pups had been bored into complacency since we left town; I grinned, anticipating smelling Bella and testing her quiet mind. And pissing off that big, hulking man-child of hers.


	7. Chapter 7

**Special notice: a Different Forest might not have emailed you your confirmation, but you can still log in! Sorry for the inconvenience, dude.**

**Dedicated, as always, to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 7**

**Bella**

"All six seven of this?"

"Bring it."

Jake pursed his lips to keep from smiling and I didn't even try to hide my own smile, I just narrowed my eyes and squared my shoulders.

The smile spread on Jake's face and he came barreling at me.

I shrieked and turned to run, but he had already caught me. Jacob curled over me and we somersaulted, all twisted together in the long grass behind the house.

We'd been staying close to home a lot lately—Jacob didn't like me to leave when it wasn't absolutely necessary, and I was okay with that.

If I was home, I wouldn't risk running into Edward Cullen around town and I wouldn't be plagued by his face and his smell and his voice for days later while I tried to shake all of it for the sake of the pack and Jake and myself.

I loved playing with Jacob around the house.

I loved when it was very late and we were both quiet and wrapped together in bed. Out loud I'd read passages from my favorite books and he'd close his eyes but listen and sometimes he'd talk about how worried he was for Billy's health or sometimes we'd talk about having babies someday or sometimes we watched awful made-for-TV movies, but mostly we laughed.

But even then.

Something was always nagging me.

Gnawing at my stomach with razor-sharp teeth and deep-set black eyes.

I was always shadowed by that plague now, even when I was laughing.

And that's what Edward Cullen was—a plague.

Unwanted—not welcome in my thoughts or my life—but still.

He was somehow ingrained there now, ghosting each breath and each smile and a part of me hated him for that, because every time I saw his face behind my eyelids—he was stealing something from Jacob.

So, I put all of me into trying to replace it— all of the depleting _things— _I poured myself into loving Jacob— because I did love Jacob.

And I was happy doing it— more than happy. I was downright blissful.

Jacob rolled us over, so I was pinned underneath him.

"Say you'll marry me."

"Ew. Jake—you know how I—"

"Say it," he said, poking my ribs with his fingers.

I squealed and squirmed and made threats I'd never be able to carry out.

"Say 'Jake—my one and only true love, I know I don't deserve you and your utter awesomeness, but please, please let me marry you.'"

"Hah!"

"That's funny?" he asked, and I writhed underneath him while his fingers attacked.

"Stop, stop," I managed, gasping for breath.

"What's that? 'Jake, you handsome bastard, I want to marry you as soon as you'll let me?'"

I shook my head no and braced myself for the next attack, but it never came.

"Jacob."

He was looking down- to my shoulder, not my eyes- and I pulled at his chin to bring him back.

"I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere. You know I hate dress shopping—"

"You can wear jeans."

"Why does it mean so much? I mean, you have me forever. And after that, too. So—"

"If that's the case, then why not just get married?"

"Because it's a formality and a hassle."

"Marrying me would be a hassle?"

"Everything about you is a hassle," I said, and lifted my neck to kiss the tip of his nose.

He mocked a growl and rolled me over and over and once again I deflected the subject of holy matrimony.

And not because I was going anywhere.

But because I was confident that I wasn't.

"I'd do cartwheels for you," Jacob said, once I was sitting on top of him. He was starting our favorite game.

"I'd climb a tree for you," I said, and he reached up and used one finger to move a few strands of hair from the crease at my lips.

"I'd run to Texas for you."

"I'd… learn to walk a tight rope for you."

"You used that already."

"Okay. I'd give up cake for you."

"I'd learn how to fly for you."

"I'd swim with hungry sharks for you."

"You know what, Bella?"

"What?"

"There's _nothing_ I wouldn't do. Nothing."

For a split second, my insides turned to ice under his hot skin. I shivered and shook it off with a smile.

"Jake?"

"What?"

"I think I'd like to see those cartwheels."

Sometime later, after we'd eaten and showered and our day was full, I went to bed and left Jake downstairs with the pack.

I fell asleep fitfully and right before I drifted off, my lips uttered a curse as my mind imagined Edward Cullen.

My eyes opened in the pitch black— so black, I had to rub my eyes to be sure they were open at all— yet somehow I got the very distinct feeling I wasn't alone.

I didn't feel the familiar heat from Jacob's body next to mine. Quite the opposite; I felt a rush of ice sweep over my shoulders and through my hair and into my lungs.

"Say something," I whispered, frozen in my sheets, and already I knew it wasn't my hero.

It wasn't my Jacob here by my bed.

A rumble of low, soft laughter rolled over my ears and into my head.

"How did you get in here?" I whispered in a hoarse panic. "They're all watching. You shouldn't have been able to get in here. It should be impossible."

"But it wasn't. Which can only mean one thing. My desire to get in is much stronger than his desire to keep me out. I want it more," he said, his voice smooth and sliding and hypnotizing.

"He'll kill you," I whispered again, unable to move, unable to wish him gone.

The laughter came again.

"You haven't been taught well…or at least you've been taught wrong. In my world, the vampire always bests the werewolf."


	8. Chapter 8

**Dedicated to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 8**

**Edward**

I noted that she didn't ask me what I was doing there.

She stared at me, silent, the wary shock almost outweighing the cold acceptance I saw in her face.

She wanted me there.

I watched her in her bed, the sheets 250 thread count and probably from a discount retailer. She had changed to more comfortable clothing. The air from the window and my sudden appearance was making her visibly cold, her nipples standing up beneath the thin fabric of her night shift. She saw where my gaze was fastened and pulled her knees up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. Ah, there it is. I lifted my eyes up, listening intently for any clue. Any thought or impression that would ensure that this human girl was no different from the rest of them.

Still silent.

I was fascinated; utterly fascinated. I tried to explain logically to my own brain that this captivation with the thought-silent human was the reason I was there, but I couldn't let that little lie slide. I couldn't even get away with the simple "she's beautiful" excuse.

I knew the truth.

And the truth was that I had no fucking idea why I was there-

And that was the most dangerous reason of all.

My natural inclination was to run. Run from it all- from her, from the Edward Cullen Way of Handling Difficult Situations- shield myself with the vampire excuse, tuck tail, run.

Not this time.

I could remember Then, the Then that led to my first killing of an innocent. The menthol sting of vampire saliva as the other girl allowed me to unfasten the buttons on her delicately embroidered blouse; the overpowering wash of her human scent making me dizzy, as if I had walked into a stiflingly hot house with the smell of apple pie baking in the air. The light crunch of thousands of epithelial cells breaking as my teeth pierced through her flesh.

The memories were not helping. I still needed to figure out why I was there.

I covered my unease with another low chuckle. She had that frustrating crease that marred her brow, and I noticed with amusement that Bella was not a woman who plucked. No makeup on her face; her pores had that fresh, unclogged freedom that I generally only noticed on girls who hadn't discovered beauty magazines yet.

"If they find you here-"

"I'll be gone before they can so much as nip at my ankles," I finished, finding a creaky old rocking chair and settling in it. I rested my elbows on the arms and steepled my fingers, leaning back- a vampire at ease next to the heart of the werewolf empire. I was staring at her forehead, hoping for some clue, some soft tendril of thought that might escape her shield.

Nothing.

How wonderful.

"You stare at me like you're trying to decide which vein is the juiciest," she said testily, and I could hear the frustration in her voice, mirroring my own. We were at a standstill, both knowing something huge- something that would change our comfortable and complacent boundaries and shake the worlds we knew- would be said. Would need to be said.

"I always prefer the femoral," I murmured without thought, internally cringing at the implication. It was true, though. The femoral pumped as well as any of the major arteries, but its placement- right there at the crux of all things I abhorred about myself- was Edward Cullen's modus operandi; most women were turned on by the little bites. I always made sure that they were so steeped in the moment- their moaning and controlled thrashing covering what I was really doing as I sank my numbing fangs into their sweaty, musky flesh- that they never questioned whether my bites were playful or sinister.

Bella pulled a blanket up over her sheet, as if the thin layer could shield her from me, should I have chosen to attack. But I wouldn't attack; couldn't. If I ever ended up biting this girl- I would never be able to stop at a few lusty draws. That much I already knew.

She could be my undoing.

Yet I remained.

"He made me promise," she breathed, the words barely audible to anyone without superhuman hearing. _Ah, the wolf had already explained our little treaty to her. He made short work of that_. I wondered how much had been told, if she already knew that I had killed an innocent girl.

"Is he afraid of me, then?" I asked. Her instant laugh told me all that I needed to know about her protector, about Jacob Black. Or rather- how Bella perceived him.

"Afraid? Jake can take care of himself." Jake. I hated the way the nickname fell out of her mouth. So familiar; musical-sounding, despite the clipped, guttural short syllable and hard choke on the end.

"So, what's it like?" I leaned back and crossed my ankle over my knee, getting as comfortable as was possible. I could read the expression on her face easily enough because it was what I had intended- impatient irritation.

"What's _what_ like?"

"Aren't werewolves like giant, hairy heating pads? It must be uncomfortable to be near such a hothead. The anger, the constant shredded clothing. It's _your_ clothes that should be ripped from your body," I smiled, intentionally goading her.

And, as such things so often do, it backfired. She was instantly on the defensive, probably to defend her guard dog, but her cheeks fired up, blood-red and blood-filled. I could see the change in shade; I could feel it; I could practically hear it: the rustle of bed sheets as she self-consciously, unconsciously squirmed at the suggestion; her slightly quickened breathing, her lips opening enough that a small, wet sound escaped between them.

Like that, I was embarrassed. Word play was something I used to lure women in, but it felt misplaced with this particular woman. "I apologize," I whispered, slightly irritated that I had apologized. We stared at each other for a moment while I wondered what she was thinking and tried to figure out what to say or do next.

"You're not like I imagined," she whispered back, and the line between her eyebrows lightened. She sat up straighter, leaning forward. I felt an odd sensation in the center of my chest cavity where my heart would be, something akin to a crackle, the pop when a log on a fire broke in half. The corner of my mouth lifted, and I leaned toward her- not to make her uncomfortable, not to goad her- but because I was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

"No cape, you mean? Sunlight, garlic. I rather like churches, too. There's a particularly beautiful, quaint little chapel outside of Portland that I once-"

"No, I mean… you're not cold." She winced, almost like she regretted saying it, but her rueful smile was so sweet that I simply laughed in response.

"You'd be the only human in a hundred years who thought so. It's easy to convince patients in the hospital that the air conditioning is too high, but-"

"No, I mean… your personality. You're not wholly unapproachable. And Dr. Cullen seems downright _warm_."

That was new. Irresistible, yes. Mysterious, definitely. But no human had ever called me approachable. I must have looked confused or disturbed, because she look flustered again as she explained.

"I meant- I'm not scared of you."

In the moment that passed, surely not more than two or three seconds, several thoughts raced through my head- how she should, indeed, be scared, how her canine protectors would gleefully rip me to shreds if afforded the opportunity, how my family would react to my being there- but the only thought I chose to focus on was that I was glad that she wasn't afraid of me. So many were, even if the fear was intangible and unacknowledged. I believed the women I always chose as temporary companions were with me because of the danger their instincts warned them of. Yet this one claimed to possess no such instinct.

I should have warned her. I should have revealed my "fangs" or speed or strength, and perhaps I might have, if I hadn't heard the distinct lopping beat of running in the distance. I grimaced and leaned back in my seat, annoyed that my time was cut short but glad that _he'd_ know I had just been there.

"What is it?" She looked worried again, and I regretted having to leave so soon. However, I was unprepared to slaughter her family right in front of her just yet, especially since nothing had actually happened. They'd know soon enough I was there, and I felt a brief tinge of annoyance that I would have some explaining to do to the family when I got home, but before I left, I wanted to try just one thing.

I got up slowly, at a human's pace, and walked over to the bed. To her credit, she didn't move, didn't even breathe, but I felt the exhilarating beat of her increased heart rate as I got closer.

"Good night, sweet Bella," I breathed, purposefully blowing my breath into her hair. I was no closer than six inches, but she got the dazed, dreamy look on her face that my lady companions often got once I had chosen them. I didn't like that, but it couldn't be helped. My need to irritate the wolf was much stronger at that moment than my need to guard against her susceptibility to vampire seductions.

Before she could answer or even regain her senses, I leaped out the window, laughing softly when I heard the wolf pace pick up exponentially.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dedicated, as always, for wolvesnvamps.**

**And posted tout de suite because jennday wishes it so.**

**Chapter 9**

**Bella**

I was shocked and frightened when I heard the words "don't go" slip from my lips—but it was too late.

He was already gone and I was already lost and everything, _everything_ was already broken.

Before I could move or take a breath or process any of this, Jacob flew into the room and the lights came on, bright and harsh, but somehow the light didn't bring any clarity.

"Leech," Jacob spat, shaking violently.

He was naked and full of bare rage. I knew he had just phased back to Jacob, for the sake of my safety. I knew we both had to be very careful.

He took a deep breath through his nose and his face distorted into something terrifying and borderline reckless.

"Where?" he managed.

"Gone," I said, because it was pointless to try to hide it. And I didn't even want to.

"How?"

"I have no idea," I answered, and though I wasn't sure if he was asking how Edward got in or how Edward got to _me,_ the answer was the same.

Jacob paced the room for what seemed like hours while I sat still and tried like hell not to remember Edward in our room.

"You hurt?" he finally asked.

"No."

"You didn't call for me."

"I… you. Jacob," I said, because nothing else would come.

I couldn't lie to him. I could neither defend it nor deny it. I could offer nothing truthful that would fix this.

I stayed silent and let what had to pass between us, and I felt something inside of me rot. Painful and disgusting and decaying—something inside of me was dying.

Jacob crossed the room in three heavy steps and I sat waiting for him to do whatever it was he would.

He deserved to.

His hot hands held my face too tightly and my skull shook from his trembling.

"I can't live without you," he said, looking me right in the eye. It wasn't a plea or a last ditch effort.

It was a fact.

"I know."

Jacob pressed his hot lips to mine and I fell back and didn't stop until my head was on the pillow. Too warm and too heavy, he fell on top of me so I bore all of his weight— something that I'd never done before.

I put my arms around him tightly, not willing to bury any of this alive; if there was any part that could be spared, I wanted it. I didn't want to lose Jake or any part of us. My legs spread around him, willing him to resuscitate this dying thing.

His face buried into my hair and he growled, feral and violent, not love and lust.

He smelled Edward on me and I felt Edward _in_ me and we'd been infiltrated. Somehow, impossibly, our bond had been penetrated and I couldn't fix it, no matter how tight I held him or how much I wanted to.

"You… you're why I breathe, Bella," he said into my hair.

I twisted underneath him, suddenly feeling stifled and suffocated, but I wasn't trying to get away.

"You didn't tell him to leave," Jake stated ,and I boiled underneath him.

"Do it, just take me," I pled, because maybe if we were physically joined, the rest would fall back into place.

"I'm not…" he started, and I knew he was trying to warn me.

"It's okay…I need to be close," I said underneath him and I wriggled more, trying to keep Edward's voice and his face at bay.

I closed my eyes and let Jake take me over. I gave myself to him…because he needed me to.

There was a painful burn when my shirt was ripped away and Jacob took both of my arms and wrapped them around his neck, recklessly and desperately. The pain in my bandaged hand shocked through my arm and to the pit of my belly.

Jacob didn't seem to notice… for the first time in eight years, Jacob didn't seem to notice I had hurt. The desperation to come together—to keep us together—overwhelmed both of us. He had worked so hard at forcing my arms to hold him… that he had hurt me.

The heat from his face made my neck sweat and itch and this wasn't working and I was starting to panic.

The closer we got, the louder Edward's chuckle echoed in my head.

"Talk, Jacob," I whispered, "tell me you love me."

But he didn't.

A violent shudder ripped through him and on top of me and my fingers dug into his back—but I didn't scratch at flesh.

I yanked at coarse hair and yelped, loud and horrified.

The weight lifted off of me but the intense heat hovered and I instinctively scrambled into a tight ball, pressing my eyes into my kneecaps. I couldn't look— I couldn't look up and let him see me scared of him.

The soft hairs from his underside grazed my skin and his heavy, animal-like panting filled the room— but then again, maybe it was mine.

I lay there, curled and terrified and guilt-ridden, unable to move until I felt his cool, wet nose nudge my thigh.

I shrieked out, every nerve on edge— maybe he phased because he smelled Edward, maybe because the adrenaline and the entire situation was too much, too stressful… but probably because he knew.

A deep growl came and the bed shook— then he hopped down and away from me. I heard the heavy paws cross the room and he was telling me to go.

Blindly, I shot from the bed, unable to look back at him. I tore through the door and then another. My cheeks stung from the salt in my tears. Over my own choked, harsh sobs, I heard a howl rip through the air, raged and tortured.

And I kept running.

At some point, my arms curled around my naked chest and still I ran while the cold, black night stabbed into my skin.

I ran with bare, burning feet over sharp, upended twigs and rocks. Through mud and gravel and over logs and marsh. I didn't know if I was running from something or toward something but I couldn't stop. I wanted Jacob to find me and be my best friend and kiss me and I wanted to never have cut my damn hand and I wanted no treaties and no vampires and no wolves—that's all I _wanted_.

But I knew none of that is what I _needed._

When each breath caused a fire in my lungs and I couldn't feel my legs, my body stopped and stilled.

The grass underneath my feet was soft and spongy and the sky above me was open and empty. I sank right there in that meadow, down to my knees where I was alone. Where I couldn't hurt or be hurt— I didn't know who's side of the boundary line I was on— and my crazed lips smiled at the irony of that.

"There isn't a graceful bone in your body, is there?"

Slowly my head raised to him and my heart calmed, despite the fact that it shouldn't have.

Edward was there, white and silver in the moon, ten steps from me and unbuttoning his shirt.

"You run like a three-legged antelope…but slower," he said, staring at me as he reached the last button. "I practically had time to catch a meal while I was following you. Catch."

He tossed his shirt over to me and it sailed and floated until it landed in a sweet-smelling heap at my toes.

"I'm pretty sure it's too cold out here for you. Put it on. And your left foot is bleeding. A stick went into it a quarter mile back."

I used one arm to cover my chest and worked my other arm into his shirt. He watched unabashedly as I maneuvered into it all the way.

"You followed me," I said, looking down, my fingers shaking too much to fasten the first button on the shirt. But I was only shaking from the cold now.

"Wolves can be very dangerous when emotion runs high," was his answer.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't know," he said, and with no warning he was crouching in front of me. "The same reason you do?"

I said nothing and his cold hands locked around my wrists, putting them to my sides.

He closed his eyes and I noticed he wasn't breathing; quickly, his long, nimble fingers buttoned the shirt.

"You shouldn't try to sleep with your enemy… it'll get you killed," he said when he was done with my shirt and his eyes were open and black.

I stared into his face and wondered briefly how he had ever passed as human.

Edward was too exquisite for this earth.

Before I spoke, I reached one finger out and ran it over his smooth, cold jaw because I couldn't stop myself. He turned into a still life and let me feel him. My finger ran down his unmoving throat and I watched his face in awe.

I drew my hand back and tucked it under my chin.

"Jacob," I said, hoping I sounded convicted, "is not my enemy."

Edward's eyes came to life and swept my face dark and quick.

"The hell he isn't."

**So… know how this story was the result of a high bid by our wolvesnvamps? The auction for Stacie?**

**Well, the auction is happening again this weekend, and yep- you guess it-**

**We're on the block, once more.**

**So, if you've got a couple of bucks, bid on a story and help Stacie pay for her radiation treatments!**

**Link on our profile… **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The wolf is my enemy. Therefore he is hers.

The only thing that kept me from ripping _Jacob_ to shreds was my need to see to Bella. She was upset; no mind reading needed to figure that one out. She was forcing herself to calm, and my covering her up had seemed to help. I stood, awkwardly bringing her up with me, my hands attempting to rub vigorously on her arms and keep her warm.

She couldn't continue living like this. It was too dangerous.

It was that simple. I knew she saw it, too; there was a well-worn rut beginning to form between her slightly uneven brows. Without leaning in or thinking, I was gently running the pad of my thumb, feeling the furrow, letting the light tickle of near-invisible, unplucked hair brush my skin. It was like a thousand ants crawling along my body; unpleasant for what it was yet stimulating all at once.

"You can't imagine how that feels," she whispered, her voice thick with- something. I couldn't tell yet, but I imagined that it was longing. Women's throaty, raspy attempts at seduction tended to blend after a while, and though I detected similar undertones in the timbre of her voice, I knew without devoting thought to it that Bella wasn't intentionally trying to turn me on; that was simply how she was.

Or maybe that was how my body chose to react to her. I wasn't sure; I had been too busy thinking about her to devote any time to actually _think_ about her. Being in her presence didn't help, either; I couldn't distract myself with focusing on her thoughts, so I had to settle with focusing on my perception of the minute changes in her facial expressions. How amusing.

"I think I have a pretty good idea," I murmured, purposefully holding my breath in. I knew how it affected her, how my vampire-ness affected her; this time, I wanted to see if it was the predator/prey relationship that she unconsciously responded to… or if it was, inexplicably, me as a person.

We stood like that but a few seconds, me touching her lightly between her eyebrows, she standing there, eyes half-lidded and holding her breath. It was a fleeting instant, really; ephemeral like most of my other connections with humans. But that wasn't how my constantly bored vampire mind perceived the moment. For the first time in more than fifty years, I wasn't concerned with hiding my cold skin, or trying to figure out how to best fuck her without her noticing I was less than human, or wasting my time with forgettable conversations to get into her pants. I simply… was. We simply were.

I dropped my hand and she opened her eyes. I looked directly into her irises, noting how the moon reflected in them, like it settled on a still lake at night. I hadn't been breathing- a human trait I tended to use when I was around people- so I slowly inhaled, the overpowering scent of her blood sticking in my nostrils, my throat, my taste buds. _Delicious_. She smelled absolutely delicious. The unpleasant tang of wolf was there, distinct and making my body react with the instinct of enmity, but Bella's savory flavor was getting stronger, overpowering the wolf smell and overpowering me. The glands in the back of my mouth tingled as venom began to collect there, and I had a fleeting human memory of biting into a not-quite-ripe plum. I suppressed my normal around-humans instinct and stopped breathing; I might need to if I was around her; the temptation to bite was too great.

Her pupils had dilated slightly, her body reacting to its own natural instinct to fear a dangerous predator. I chuckled as I realized it. The furrow reappeared, and I explained myself before her mouth could even form the question.

"You are much too tempting for your own good," I said, injecting a light tease in my tone. Her mouth turned up at a corner and she backed away a step; whether it was unconscious or not, I wasn't sure, but I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

"I don't want you to be afraid," I said, staring directly into her eyes. She appeared to accept that, but rather than coming toward me again, she sat down Indian-style, right there on the grass. This amused me greatly; I liked that Bella wasn't the type of girl who would be bothered by dewdrops or unforeseen bugs in the darkness. Perhaps it was a result of hanging out with mangy dogs, but I sensed that it was more a part of her character to not care about things like getting down and dirty.

"I don't see anything to be afraid of," she shrugged, mindlessly pulling out pinches of grass and sprinkling them haphazardly behind her. I lowered myself so that I was sitting with my legs in front of me, sort of perpendicular to her form. I rested my arms straight out behind me and gazed at the night sky, completely aware of Bella's breath blowing across me like a humid breeze. She smelled warm, human; she had recently brushed her teeth, and the peppermint tang carried with the salty human scent. It was getting easier to ignore the pepper of wolf. I began sneaking little breaths; I couldn't get enough of her smell, but I was hesitant to breathe it in too much.

"I don't scare you?" I asked, putting on my best Edward Cullen smirk, but she was looking up at the moon, considering my question.

"No more than usual," she replied softly, running her palms across the wet grass. She looked down and plucked a yellow dandelion, shredding it with her fingers as she looked at me. She grinned and raised her eyebrows before saying, "I think you do that shit on purpose, you know."

"Oh, do you?" I smiled. Playful. I liked that. It was something of a relief to discover that I liked Bella as a person. I found that even this small thing surprised me a little, and I have always prided myself on finding few surprises when it comes to the human female. Perhaps it was because her mind was closed to me. Perhaps something else.

"You're not as scary as you try to be, you know," she said, looking away and smiling at some inner joke. I felt a crazed sort of pleasurable panic not knowing what it was she was thinking about. If I had to name the feeling, I'd call it "drunkenness", only vampires can't get drunk. Emmett claims to have "blacked out" on those several occasions when he met his blood singers, but since I wasn't nearby at the time, I've never known how true that was. His memories were nothing to go by; vampire recollections can be just as influenced by want and desire as human recollections.

"I'm not trying to be scary. On the contrary; it's a little unsettling how easy it is to be myself around you." The words slipped out of my mouth like the dew slipped from her fingertips as she lifted her hands from the grass. Much too easily.

"That's funny, I was just thinking the same about you," she mumbled, flicking at some invisible speck of dust that kept her from looking at me.

"Oh? Life as a den mother not all it's cracked up to be?" I asked, trying to sound like I was teasing and failing. I suppose my desperate need to know the answer to her question was all-too apparent because her head jerked up and met my eyes.

"Don't ask me about them," she said, tilting her chin pugnaciously, daring me to defy her. Her eyes were blazing despite her back being turned to the moon; her defiance was glorious to behold, and I sucked in a sharp breath without thinking.

The fire, the utter burn that rushed down into my mouth was like a back draft; Bella's scent was rushing into my mouth, replacing the oxygen atoms and trying like hell to ignite the venom that was again pooling at the back of my throat. I was caught completely and utterly by surprise; the last time I had had such a strong reaction to any one human was… seventy years ago. Not too far from here, actually. My first. First kill, first sex. I had concluded after the fact that I was unprepared for it, that it had all been too much. Now I wasn't so sure.

I swallowed three times, desperately trying to clear my mouth of the burn, to digest the flood of Bella in my mouth. I could feel the dark stirrings in my loins, that shadow that loomed below whenever I was either hunting or fucking. The soulless nature of the vampire, I liked to call it. Alice always told me that I was being morbid whenever I referred to it that way, but that is exactly what it felt like. I had perfected the art of suppressing it over the years, but for some reason- right here, right now- it wanted to come out.

I wasn't even feeding. Or fucking, for that matter.

I should have gotten up and walked away. Fled. Fled quickly.

But her eyes kept me there. It was the first time I had seen her have a correct reaction to being in my presence.

She looked afraid. I'm ashamed to say that this only enticed the soulless shadow more.

I exhaled deeply and shut my eyes, focusing on the sound of her quickened heart rate; I counted the beats, noting that they slowed after about a minute or so. She was doing the same thing I was- calming herself down.

"That was… interesting," I said, trying to laugh and lighten the mood. She laughed uneasily and we fell into a short silence, wondering what to say next.

"I should probably go," she said softly, the impact of her words hard and hollow.

"No, you stay," I said quickly, getting up in a blur. "I'll go."

She looked up at me, her expression troubled. "I don't want you to go."

"Then I won't." Not if you don't want me to.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered, and when I looked down to see if she meant it, I caught a fleeting look of pain on her face. I wanted to brush it away with the strand of hair that gently whipped in her eyes as she turned her head slightly, but I didn't. It took every ounce of strength and will that I possessed, but I didn't. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to stop myself if it happened again.

I wanted to see if I could refrain.

I wanted to see if my willpower was stronger than the odd need I had to remain near her.

It seemed unfathomable to me why this girl, this human female, was so irresistible to me.

Had it really only been days since I had first seen her?

My common sense was hollering at me to get the hell away from her, but that deep down dark was growling for me to get closer. I wanted to see if I could find some sort of middle ground, so I paused, willing both instincts to quiet down to a faint buzz.

"I'll stay if you ask me to," I finally whispered. It was barely more than a human could discern, but she caught it. Her pupils dilated and her heart rate bounded in my ears; I shifted my gaze to an area just under her jaw, my mind lazily taking note of every imperfection. Every tiny detail- the sporadic clusters of freckles splayed on either side of her nose, a pock mark next to her eye. Her left ear was slightly higher than the right, both lobes unmarred by ridiculous piercings as so many human females were want to do.

My eyes finally rested on that spot, that thrumming rhythm of blood beneath the corner of her jaw.

Taking a page from the human playbook, I sucked in a breath, focusing on the in-and-out motion; imagining the intake of oxygen flowing into my non-functional lungs, filling the alveolar surfaces, binding on red blood cells, flowing to my imaginary heart, supplying my impervious-to-damage cells with the energy to replenish, repair, regenerate.

Focusing on the mechanics of oxygen exchange helped take away the ever-present lust for blood. It was but a moment, but it was something.

She watched me studying her neck, but to her credit, she didn't flinch. In fact, she turned her head slightly, affording me an indecently vulnerable view of her sweet spot.

"What are you doing," I murmured, my body crouching near her without my consent.

With each inch toward Bella that I gained, I could smell her. Stronger. Saltier. _Closer_. I never got this close to women without touching them. I never had a reason to. It was as though I was watching from a safe distance as the bloodlust propelled my actions. Or was it sex lust? Bella lust? I realized I couldn't discern a difference.

Worse, I didn't care.

Something was happening here, and I knew what it was. I had witnessed it enough over the years.

I made sense of it, even if my vampire side scoffed at the idea.

I wanted her.

In more ways than one.

Which way was strongest? I'd have to find out.

Finally, my body and head reconciled, and together they leaned in. Her blood scent got stronger, and I could feel the tremor in the air as she shivered, the waves of Bella crashing into my nose and mouth, pulling me in. I balled my hands, squeezing so that I felt my skin stretching over my knuckles. I should have stopped; I wanted to stop and wanted to never leave that very spot.

"Edward, what are you-" she breathed, her voice catching on my name. Like that, I came to. I paused, my nose mere centimeters from the neck muscle that seemed to be pulling me in. A thrill had passed through me when she said my name; I liked how she exhaled it, wondering how it would sound when passing through her lips in passion. Without moving my head, I glanced at her face; her eyes were closed again, head still tilted to the side. Her lips were parted slightly, my thin shirt crinkling between her breasts as her chest moved with ever-increasing breaths.

"I'm sorry," I murmured into her neck, wanting desperately to bite her there. Maybe for real, maybe for pleasure- both would be fun, but both seemed wrong. "I find you so… frustrating." Frustrating because I simply didn't know how to conduct myself.

"That's not what I expected you to say," she laughed, pretending to be offended. She made to move her head back, so I gave her room but didn't change position. My face was now next to her ear, her tangled hair tickling my own uncombed mess.

"What, then? Beautiful? Enchanting?" She laughed at that, the music of it like Chopin dripping off of my fingers and onto a keyboard.

"Well, that might have been lovely, but we'll never know, now. Will we?" She was using her teasing voice, and I locked that information into my growing store of knowledge on this girl. She responded to uncomfortable situations with sarcasm. It was endearing and so very human.

"No, we won't," I said, a bit of regret in my voice. She turned her face toward me, looking serious as she tried to decipher my tone.

"Why do I frustrate you?" she asked, pulling in the corner of her lip, the soft sucking sound of her chewing making me want to find out what her lip tasted like.

I considered her question for a moment, deciding to tell her the truth. It might be liberating, really, letting someone who wasn't Alice or Carlisle or any Cullen in on my little secret. I felt like I could trust Bella, even if she were technically "the enemy".

"Because I can't hear your thoughts," I said, looking directly into her eyes, letting her know that I was serious. I didn't want her to think that I would ever deceive her. I had a feeling she would know the truth, anyway. This girl seemed capable of seeing through all of the little falsehoods life had to offer. Maybe that was why I was so drawn to her.

She pondered my revelation for a moment before responding. "Mind-reader, hmm? I guess they weren't exaggerating that, then," she said, and I was floored that she accepted it so readily. Then again, this girl had known from an early age that those things that went bump in the night were real, so maybe my surprise was unwarranted. I laughed then, a very hearty, very real laugh. She wasn't scared of me- the vampire me, or the mind reader me. Fascinating!

"What's so funny?" she asked, looking adorably confused as she sat up straighter. I was disappointed that she had leaned away from me, so I leaned in again, my nose brushing the hairs on the side of her face. I felt heat emanating from her skin, and while I wanted to touch it, I didn't. I wanted her to be the one who touched me.

"You are a delightful person, do you know that?" I breathed onto her skin purposefully, enjoying the shiver that rippled down her neck. She started breathing heavily again, her heart racing, and I immediately stopped forcing myself on her. No vampire tricks. I had to stop it. I wanted her to want me on her own.

"You're not too shabby yourself," she said, her voice weak. She was leaning toward me, her skin coming closer, and it was all I could do to quell the dark urges rising up from the lower half of my body when she finally, purposefully brushed her cheek against my nose.

Hot, seering, white. A jolt; a shock. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. The combination of her everything- the oil in her skin, the heat; the tickle and the tension. I was on fire, in the best of ways; I wanted to fuck her, I wanted to love her. I wanted to pick her up and run far away, make her mine, make me hers. Make us Us. Good God, if I had but known that something like this existed, I would have crushed everything that dared stand in my way to dust to get to it.

And like that, it all came crashing down on me.

She wasn't mine to have.

She was my enemy. Well, she represented my enemy.

She was a human. A living, breathing, blood-generating human. Delicious and sultry and full of life.

I couldn't take that from her. I wouldn't. The dark in me was screaming that I had no choice, but I wouldn't accept that.

There was always a choice.

There had to be.

It amazed me that the inhuman cry that was wailing throughout my body went unheard in that meadow; it had all happened so fast, yet felt like ages. I couldn't even see her reaction as I did what I had to do.

I ran.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the waiting. wtvoc is completing her last semester of nursing school and is rather overwhelmed lately.**

**Congrats to mcsmirkle, winner of the recent Support Stacie Auction! We wonder what she's gonna have us write…**

**Dedicated as always to wolvesnvamps.**

**Chapter 11**

**Bella**

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said "Trust your instinct to the end, though you can render no reason."

W.H. Auden once said "To choose what is difficult all one's days, as if it were easy, that is faith."

William Woodsworth said "Faith is passionate intuition."

So.

Edward had left me cold and alone, all wrapped in his shirt in the meadow, and my lover, my best friend and soul mate was miles away, howling in despair and every part of me knew I should go back to him.

To Jacob.

Where I knew love and where I fit and was wanted—and was where I swore I wanted to be for my life and thereafter.

It was as though I were standing on the edge of a knife, on a thin line that separated two worlds, night and day or black and white.

If I thought it was a choice at all, I would've run home, to my Jacob.

If I thought for half a second I could return to him and forget all about Edward Cullen, I would have.

But I knew now, for the rest of my life, his face would haunt me.

I knew he'd hang like a silver cloud over me and Jacob for the rest of our lives.

I knew I'd never be whole and happy if I just let Edward go.

And though it shamed me and made me physically flinch and reel—I couldn't admit to myself that I felt the same about Jacob.

So I didn't think about the fact that Jacob couldn't live without me.

I didn't think about the last seven years of utter bliss and fantasy I'd lived.

I didn't think about every promise and vow and kiss and touch I had given wholeheartedly to Jacob.

I ran and cried out for his enemy instead.

With no logical reasoning, with nothing but passionate intuition and faith—it was that easy to choose the difficult road.

I ran. Away from La Push. Closer to Forks.

I tripped and stumbled, but I never stopped—not once did my physical weakness overcome my abrupt, fierce determination, which was, of course, to have Edward Cullen.

I ran past what I knew to be the territorial boundary lines, and I didn't pause, not even when I heard the strangled, enraged howling of enormous wolves, threaded in with a much louder howl—a howl riddled with despair.

I put my hands over my ears and kept running, but now I knew the actual, physical sound a heart makes when it breaks.

I ran full force until I was slammed to a stop—a cold stab right through my gut.

For a second, I thought the grief and guilt had actually killed me.

I was pulled until my back was pressed against cold steel.

"Switch teams? If not, you're on the wrong side of the line, sweetheart."

I struggled against his arm, and he let me go into a forward stumble, then I whipped around to face him.

"Jacob… is not my enemy. Jacob, will never, ever be my enemy," I spat and shouted.

"But you ran this way. And you had to have known you wouldn't find him here. You'd only find me."

"I… can't… you pulled me this way and I hate you for it."

"You made a choice," he said, pointing a finger and his black eyes at me.

"I didn't have a choice."

"Of course you did. I made a choice not to kill you in the meadow and countless times before, even when I thought it was impossible. I made a choice not to just take you, even though I could have many times. Now. Are you choosing me?"

"I don't want any of this. I didn't want you to show up and ruin my life and ruin Jacob. I don't want to have to think about you when I lay next to him in bed and I don't want to see your face everywhere I look and I don't want to imagine your voice or your hands. I don't want any of this to happen."

"But. Do you want me?"

I snapped my head to the side and let my chin dig into my shoulder because I could be quiet, but I couldn't lie.

I heard a twig snap as he took a step closer to me.

"I hate that I ever saw your face," I said, still unwilling to look at him.

"But. Do you want me?"

"I hate that the only person I ever really loved is dying for this. And for that I hate the both of us."

"But. Do you want me?"

"I hate the phenomenon of imprinting because it's one-sided and it's not fair. Not to anyone."

"Bella."

"I hate that I am a liar and a cheater and an unfaithful, undeserving, cold bitch— no matter how much I don't want to be. And I hate that that's what you make me. And I hate that whatever this is, it's stronger than imprinting and stronger than what should have been an eternal love."

"Say it."

"I love him. In a way that I'll never love you, I love Jacob."

And then, even when I couldn't help but stretch one hand out to touch Edward, I mourned Jacob.

"But, Bella, do you want me?" he whispered, leaning his face heavily into my palm.

I made a sound like crumbling or crying- because with that touch, I knew we all came undone.

My nails bent and buckled underneath his granite skin when I tried to sink them into his flesh. Maybe because I wanted to hurt him or maybe because I wanted to disprove him— all of him.

His entire, mythical existence.

Because if he wasn't here, if he didn't exist the way he shouldn't—my life would be my own again.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye; he was smiling, brilliant and anticipatory, waiting for the triumph we both knew I was going to give him.

"Are you happy? This makes you happy, doesn't it?" I asked. "Everyone is tortured—"

"I'm happy you won't go back to him. I'm happy you're here with me, right here, right now."

"You're much worse than they made you out to be. You're much more dangerous. You're not just a vampire, you're a life-taker, in every sense of the word—"

"I want you, Bella."

"In which way?"

"The dangerous ways."

His cold fingers went under my chin and he jerked my face toward his.

I looked up into his black eyes, intense with longing and impending victory, but shadowed by a hunger I couldn't name.

"But, Bella, do you want me?"

"Yes."

**Yep, it's short. Every chapter's short, really. We don't believe in bullshit filler, yo.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Dedicated, as always, to wolvesnvamps.**

**Typo fixed with thanks and pleasure to twiolic.**

**Chapter 12**

**Edward**

Yes. Of course.

What was it with girls wanting what they can't have?

I ran for a reason.

I ran because she wanted me to stay.

And because I wanted her to stay.

No good could come of this.

I had a vivid and precise image in my head of Alice getting mad at me for this, blaming me for luring the girl away from her love and her family.

As if either of us had a choice in this. Well, a choice outside of whether to live for each other or die separate and miserable for all eternity, anyway. Perhaps it was a jerk thing to do, but I voted to live. I was damned anyway; might as well have fun doing it.

But did you really need to drag an innocent girl into it, Edward? I could hear Alice's condescending, superior voice echoing in my head. Could see her spiky hair pointing accusatory little stabs at me, judging me and calling me out for ruining a beautiful, sexy, confusing and-

I should stop.

I should make her go.

But I couldn't.

Fuck it; I didn't want to.

She was mine now.

She'd follow me wherever I went; I knew it to be true, even if I didn't know her mother's name or where she was born or whether she preferred mayonnaise to Miracle Whip. I couldn't read her facial expressions or mind. She was a total fucking mystery.

All I knew was that the thought of her turning away from me- forever- made my throat twist and all 639 of my skeletal muscles clench.

Damn her. Damn her for being here and belonging to someone else. Damn her for damning herself by being here with me instead of over there with him.

As I stared at her face, hot and wet with tears, I realized I couldn't ever be mad at her. She wanted to chase me? Fine. I wanted to be caught.

Salty water flowed from the corners of her eyes, streaming around the apples of her flushed cheeks, collecting at the apex of the chin that was in my cold, harsh hand. Why, Bella? Why did you have to tempt me so? I could see it in her eyes, the fact that we were both about to fuck over everything and everyone we knew.

And, like me, she didn't care enough to keep away.

Then again, she didn't know about my sordid history. Perhaps I could give her one more chance, one more out. She shouldn't leave puppy love only to be saddled with dramatic, soulless obsession.

I released her chin and grabbed at her hand, noting that she had never flinched at my icy skin.

"Come on," I said. She didn't answer, simply nodding and acquiescing, like she had come to the same realizations as I had.

When her human pace made me impatient, I stopped and picked her up, securing her in my arms and trotting at an increasingly faster pace. And it felt good. Felt good to run, felt good to simply be myself with her. I should have been alarmed by the elated feeling rushing from my legs and bursting up through my every orifice as I ran farther and farther, taking Bella to a place where we wouldn't have ugly reminders of what we were leaving behind.

How would she react when I told her about my first? I felt like I needed to come clean about it, to give her that chance to not be here. Because if she could choose me, could choose to be with me- I would never let her go. If she wanted to walk, I'd have to live with it, forever. The anticipation was building, side-by-side with the elation, it was there. Burning my fast footsteps and making my stomach jump into my throat, as it were.

I carried her to an area near my house but still well out of earshot for my family; I found a log and regretted I didn't have an undershirt on or something that I could lay out for her so that she wouldn't have to be uncomfortable. I sat her down gently and kneeled in front of her, lightly brushing the straggly strands of hair that had gathered in her eyes off to the side and peered at her. I knew I looked expectant, but I suddenly felt so damned eager to come clean. This would be it, I knew it; the moment. If she could still want to be with me when I told her what I really was, then I would know how to proceed. They all grudgingly thought we were "good" vampires, and maybe that was true- ah, fuck it. I just needed her to know. I didn't want her to feel like I had hidden anything.

"Bella-" I started, and the sticky words tripped on my tongue.

"Hey, what is it?" she said softly, breathing into my face and making me pause. I closed my eyes briefly and allowed her breath into my nose and my thoughts; oddly, instead of the burn I had been starting to get used to, her smell brought more clarity. I opened my eyes and stared at her directly, ready for whatever reaction she might have.

"I killed a girl the last time we were here, in Forks. It's why we left. I didn't mean to, we just- she was my first. Sex, I mean. And I killed her, drained her." I kept it simple. The whole time I was gauging her reaction, noticing that her heart didn't change pace, her pupils didn't dilate or constrict. No narrowing of the eyes, no frown.

It was a moment before she responded.


	13. Chapter 13

**We figured wolvesnvamps needed a pick-me-up since the Giants lost today.**

**Chapter 13**

**Bella**

Of course he'd killed someone—

And he was staring at me like I should run or scream or panic for my life… but the funny thing was— not once had I assumed he hadn't killed anyone.

Edward Cullen is a blood drinker, a life-taker— of _course_ he had killed.

And he'd probably kill again.

And maybe it would be me.

But I didn't run and I didn't panic, because if I was standing here with him, it meant I wasn't standing alongside Jacob.

I chose Edward, therefore I destroyed Jacob— and maybe this would be my ultimate consequence.

Maybe he was sent just to tempt me and to test me and I failed— I failed me, and I failed Jacob and the entire pack and the entire concept of imprinting— I failed.

Perhaps death is the penalty.

But maybe not.

Whatever would come would come, and I wouldn't fight it off, because you can't take these kinds of decisions back— and even if I wanted to, I couldn't.

I couldn't leave Edward's side now, so I'd take whatever he'd give and I'd know I chose it.

"Bella. I've killed someone. A girl—"

"I know. You just said that."

"Do you want to run? Do you want to go back to that dog now that you—"

"I think… we both know what I need."

I looked up at his profile, still and white in the dark, he seemed to be staring away, looking at something too far gone for me to see.

"But not what you want," he finally whispered.

"I can't— I can't explain it," I shrugged, and even I heard the note of apology in my voice. "Maybe it's like imprinting. Only I'm human."

"Maybe… the theories… do they really matter? And, Bella, you owe me no explanation. I can't read your mind, but I know exactly how you feel. The moment I saw you… I had to have you. It was all just a question of in what capacity."

"Yes," I answered back— because I knew that feeling— I knew that urge to consume a poison at any cost and in any way you possibly can.

"You're sorry. For the wolf."

"Don't… I'm here. Isn't that enough? I don't want to talk about—"

"He doesn't feel the same way about you as I do," Edward said, and I jumped when I felt his cold fingertips at my wrist.

"You can't know that—"

"But I can. I'm in his head, Bella. He loves you— beyond mortal love— he loves you, perhaps one of the most intense, purest loves I've ever encountered—"

"Shut up," I whispered as hot tears snaked to my chin.

"But he doesn't feel this," Edward said, and picked up my heavy, limp hand in his.

I let his icy touch numb my hand and then willed him to keep talking.

"You come here, to me, in love with someone else, and I let you make that choice. I wanted you to make that choice, but Bella, you have to know… he doesn't feel this."

"But he—"

"He might die for it, but he wouldn't burn alive for it— not the way you or I would."

That's when my fingers curled around Edward's.

That's when I knew for the very first time in my life- beyond a shadow of a doubt- that there was something to live for and something to die for.

And for me, it wasn't Jacob Black.

That's when I stopped thinking about why this had happened or how terrible I was— that's when all the contemplation stopped.

It simply was— and that was the only explanation I needed.

His fingers wound tight and cold, locking me to him, intertwining us in an unbreakable bond.

"Bella. I'm yours now."

Logically, it was all wrong—all selfish and reluctant and reckless and wrong.

"I belong to you," I answered back, because I'd already given up on logic.

I was working on pure need and instinct now.

I dared to look up at him; I didn't want to see a smug triumphant smile or a menacing, murdering gaze of hunger.

But I didn't see those things.

He looked down at me, his eyes shadowed in black and blue, his lids heavy and lips slightly parted.

"I will never hurt you. I couldn't make that promise two weeks ago or even two days ago. But now I can. I need you more than I need your blood. I will never hurt you."

"I made my decision before you made your promise. So, I guess you know… without reading my mind, how it is for me. What it feels like."

"The same for me."

His fingers swept like ice up my throat and instinctively my head tossed back— offering him anything he would take— promise or not.

A sound- not quite a growl, not quite a groan- came from deep inside of his chest and instantly he dropped my hand and wrapped his arm around my back, catching me when the sensation of him took me over.

My eyes closed and I let my back arch and my body sagged over his arm.

I felt the palm of his hand rest on my chest and heard him breathe out and he spoke so soft and quick, I didn't hear what he had said.

But he had to have known—

My heart beat only for him now.

I felt his lips, smooth and cool at the side of my neck, and I shivered and squirmed while he remained still and strong.

I made an embarrassing noise— strained and buckling under the weight of so much need.

"Bella…" he whispered, sweet and soft into my skin.

"Anything."

He lifted his head and I missed his lips instantly.

"Open your eyes."

I opened them and saw Edward's— looking down into me. His hair hung forward, brushing my forehead and he kind of flinched before he spoke again.

"You have to go to Jacob."

"What?"

"So much about us is… wrong. So much. But it seems that won't stop us anyway… but Bella. We can do one part right. I won't turn you into a… an… adulterer."

He lifted his arm and I was upright.

"It will kill him," I said, simple and true.

"It—"

"I will kill him," I whispered.

"You chose," Edward said, and I thought I heard a tremor of panic in his ever calm tone.

He didn't need to panic or plead.

I couldn't change my mind if I wanted to.

Too much had passed between us.

Too much in the short time since I saw him at the hospital— too much was said and felt and I could never, never go back to Jacob and be everything he deserved now.

I could never give all of me to Jacob now— too much belonged to Edward.

"What do I do?" I bleated. And it was on an honest, lost question.

What do I do?

"You have to—" he cut himself off short and took a deep, sharp breath through his nose.

"What?"

"He's at the boundary line," Edward said, determined and quick and grave.

I stood still, trying to figure out what that meant— but before I could, I was on Edward's back and the world flew by me, fast and furious as he ran.

Before I knew what I was going to say to Jacob, before I could fathom what my words would do to him, we came to a dead stop, directly in front of _him_.

Jacob.

He was standing there, shirtless and shivering and I looked away from him as I numbly slid down Edward's back.

I didn't want Jacob to see me close to Edward— I didn't want him to have a visual for all of the pain he was about to bear… and the pain I'd live with, too.

My head was dizzy from the run or from the whole world being turned upside down and when I took a step forward, I felt Edward take a step back.

I stood two feet from Jacob and I closed my eyes very tightly and tried with all of me to step over that invisible boundary line.

My head fought against my body to run to the heat and the love of Jacob.

But I didn't move at all.

"Baby? Bells?" Jacob whispered, and never once had I heard his voice sound so full of sad and fear and quiet.

I opened my eyes and looked up and into Jacob's, then I softly cried out when I saw his brown eyes were as wet as his cheeks.

"Isabella…" he said quietly and gently. "Maybe… maybe I've taken this whole thing for granted. Maybe I assumed imprinting was a done deal, that just because I live for you… that you would live for me…"

"Jacob," I said, whispered and ragged, because nothing else would come.

"The thing is, Bella, I've been thinking… and I can be better. I won't take it for granted anymore. Okay? If you just give me—"

"Jacob—it isn't like that," I whispered.

Because in all of this, I never once thought he would think he was at fault. I never once expected him to blame himself or question his treatment of me.

"If you just—"

"Jake. You have been… perfect. You have been everything I've ever wanted or needed. I've never wanted anything else. It's just…"

"Bella. It doesn't matter… if you did anything with… or if—anything you've done since you left doesn't matter to me. I just need you. I can try very hard to be everything, baby, I promise. I promise I can, Bella—"

"Stop. Please. Jacob. I think… I think it's like imprinting or… I can't help it. If I could, Jake, I would be with you forever, but I just… can't help it. It's like…"

"Like you need him to live."

I said nothing, but my eyes met his in confirmation.

Jacob flinched and jerked and his head shook twice and fast. Behind me, Edward took two steps closer and Jake put his hand up.

"But, Bella," Jake said, his head turning to the sky, "I need you to live."

My knees gave out and hit the damp, cold ground, snapping twigs and rustling dead leaves underneath me.

Jacob squatted down in front of me and I heard Edward step closer.

"Bella," Jake said, and he reached one hand out to me, an offering and a choice. "Please come home with me."

The words were stark and rigid and laced with his tears and my body curled in on itself when I reached into the pit of my soul and found the one word I needed.

"No."

Jacob withdrew his hand and told me he loved me and I looked up at him, one last time. In that second I said goodbye to my childhood and my best friend and my lover and my every dream and my brand new enemy.

Jacob's eyes were on me, confused and weary and his mouth kind of hung open in disbelief- or pain- then just as I was turning, my eyes from him for the final time… I saw something else flash on his face.

Something dark, or something unknown.

Quickly, I was swept up into Edward's cold embrace and I let my fingers dig into his impenetrable skin as I cried and wailed against his chest.

"Shhhh…" Edward uttered into my hair, but I couldn't.

I couldn't stop crying and I would never stop hurting for him and for what used to be me.

Edward took my scratches and my writhing and my kicking and screaming in silence. He rocked us back and forth and hummed music along with my shrieking cries until my throat went raw and my body had exhausted itself.

It wasn't Edward I was fighting, or even myself anymore… it was just the pure injustice of the whole thing.

It was the awful, terrorizing circumstances that put three good people in hell.

When finally, I caved in on Edward, and my resistance turned to pulling, I let my cheek rest on his strong shoulder and my eye lids fluttered shut.

But when they did, I saw Jacob, and that flash of dark on his sad, disbelieving face.


	14. Chapter 14

**Dedicated, as always, to wolvesnvamps. It's Halloween, anything can happen.**

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**Err, back to the angst.**

**Chapter 14**

**Edward**

I am old.

I have done things that I'm sure I would regret if I cared long enough to dwell on them.

I have lived several lifetimes' worth of shitty decisions.

I've hurt people. Literally, figuratively. I think I even broken up a marriage once.

But this. This.

I could feel her heart through my arms, could feel the bradycardia, an ectopic beat, her soft sigh and body shudder as she silently broke in my arms. Closed my eyes to it, set my lips in a thin line as I resolved to make this better, to make her better.

I couldn't be the reason she broke.

And yet all the while, it became increasingly clearer and clearer why I was such a dick, why even if the worst of fairy tale endings happened and I were to suddenly be rendered human, why I didn't deserve the trembling girl I held to me as if my life were at stake.

I could practically taste her. The human skin, the viscous blood. Oxygen-rich and thick with life and salt. Because as she let tears of sad and anger seep down her face, all I could do was think _she's mine to keep_. And while I was soaring with the victory of winning but sad about her loss because of how it made her droop, I just couldn't bring it upon myself to feel any trace of bitterness that I had broken something beautiful and pure like love.

Because she _was_ mine to keep. And she wanted me and my cool dark more than she wanted the hot-tempered white heat of real love.

I didn't know this girl. Couldn't tell you what music she listened to or where her people were from or what she even did for a living, but I did know that I wouldn't be able to exist all alone anymore, knowing that she was out there.

Didn't really matter, anyway. She was with me, sighing and reconciling and surrendering to this Us.

We would have to leave.

We would have to forget.

Together.

"Make me forget," she whispered, her dry, cracked knuckles flexing as she grabbed at my still-bare skin. And like that, I became focused on her heart; on the blood that now pumped at an ever-increasing rate throughout her gorgeous veins, the arteries barely visible to my keen eyes. Blood sliding through dilated vessels, sleek and wet and pounding out a thrum that I felt in the tips of my thumbs and fingers as I deliberately clasped her arms, letting her capillaries press into my hard flesh, her blood so close and hot and delicious and _so close_. Closer as I leaned in and very carefully so as not to startle her brush my cool lips on her fevered skin, her Bella smell thick and sweat in my nostrils as I breathed in deep, letting the light scent of her straggled hair fill my head with Bella; Bella's blood and Bella's tears tangling until all I could see or think was Bella, Bella. Beautiful and mine and now.

"Forget," I whispered into her ear, rising slowly and running. Running far and fast and carefully to avoid disturbing her, she was so fragile, so human. So broken and in need of repair. I could fix her, I could fix it so that we could be We.

And I ignored thinking about what anyone would say. Because I had been living a selfish non-life, a limbo existence in which I did things to amuse myself.

No longer. I finally had a reason to act like a fucking person.

My feet pounded across the damp earth as I ran, hunching over to shield her from the whistling wind. I was hoping, praying and pleading for my family to be gone. I didn't want the questions.

And I was not sure which God to thank, because as we got closer to the house, I could feel the lovely stillness of no thoughts buzzing the air. Carlisle was most likely working the late shift, which meant that Esme had probably gone to some meeting to participate in civic events. I didn't give a shit where the others were, as long as they weren't here to judge me or try to stop me.

The ground changed beneath us, crunching to the gravel of the slightly sloping driveway as I slowed my pace.

It was silent. Thank Whoever.

The girl in my arms was shivering; whether it was from the damp air or my cadaver-like grip, I didn't know. I hurried, creating what I assumed to be a blur to her as we rushed up one flight of stairs and then another, up to the top floor- the most isolated, the soundproofed-for-my-music bedroom of mine that had never been the haven it was until this moment.

Before I had time to start thinking, I laid her down on the floor, wishing for the first time that I had given in and let Esme put a bed in my room. I never brought women back here, so I never felt it necessary. Then I let the pathetic and cold truth of that hit me- that I had never brought a woman back here to fuck- and I had to shake the thought from my head before I started feeling sorry for my existence again. I wanted to make Bella forget what I had forced her to do, not try to pinpoint just where I had gone wrong as a person.

I had never tried to put my own feelings on the backburner, but I found as I rushed around, looking for something to make her more comfortable, that I was able to focus on Bella, only Bella. She sat up and had her arms wrapped around her legs, looking shy and vulnerable as she sucked the corner of her lip into her mouth. She was looking around the room, her eyes falling on the piles of books, the stacks of CDs, the cheap black-and-white composition notebooks lining a shelf. My room was merely a repository for my stuff, and I suddenly felt like it was an accurate portrayal of me- haphazard and cluttered, without form or purpose. It was simply there, taking up space with no order or thought or-

"Stop fidgeting and get over here," she whispered harshly, urgently, interrupting my thoughts and setting my spine on edge in the best of ways as I did as I was told. I felt the overly plush carpet between my fingers as I perched on my knees right in front of her, making her flinch because I had simply appeared in front of her. She smiled, a soft little smile that distracted me from all thoughts, and I leaned forward, brushing her lips with mine and rejoicing in her accelerated heart rate. I noticed that my eyes had closed, and I felt the feather-soft brush of her eyelashes fluttering against my skin. Heaven.

I want to say that I was gentle. I want to say that I revered her, that I treasured the moment I got to make her mine as a sweet instance of what happens when the dreams you didn't think to dream become true.

But as I stared down at the fragile creature splayed out in front of me, her loss and hope being replaced by a grim determination to forget what had transpired, I realized that I was truly the worst of creatures.

Because in the second before he clouded his thoughts with a happy little memory of frolicking with Bella on the beach, I saw grim determination and a dark future flash through Jacob Black's mind.

"Edward, please," she whispered, and that ended the half-second's hesitation she must have seen on my face. I would never, ever be able to refuse her anything. She had deserted something true for me (dipping down to give her an oxygen-depleting kiss) and call me Edward again (recuperate, Bella, I can't stop) and you don't need to beg (perfect cheekbones, perfect jaw in need of my mouth) (the little hairs, that peachy fuzz on the chin are like a perfect pelt, the pilo-erector muscles flexing, leading to the jaw, the edge, the corner)(the jugular getting insistent) but then she gulped and I was momentarily brought out of the odd stupor I had fallen into.

"Please." She licked her lips, not to be suggestive or sensual, but because they were dry. But I found the darting tongue fascinating, like I had never been so focused on a human's need to maintain moistened mucous membranes before. Flicker fast, the wet sound stirring something, that unthinking part of me impatient to be let out. Wait, slow.

Her fingers clasped, prodding and clutching, seeking something and yanking at fabric. I wanted slow, she wanted now. Hot hot heat and my cold breath, lots of goose flesh as my cold, pointed nose poked along her skin, following body lines and lips brushing curves. Long legs, odd for such a short girl but joints connect and my fingers follow, trace and follow to parts I want, fingertips light because the hot and cold is so different for her, different because her breath runs ragged, used to scalding flesh, not this cold, cadaverous ice. Gentle with her, gentle with me because it's our first time even though not but a night of firsts, I can't with this gentle restraint, it's too much-

"Edward." She was sobbing and I can't say it was ecstasy, there was too much sadness in it. No sad, no no. Tongue for places that are soft and wanting, the hot too hot; never been this hot before. Heady and forgetful of what we are and who we were, the cold making her squirm, her legs pressed against my ears, more hot enveloping me, muscles bunching around me, struggling to maintain their grip because I was so cold, so cold. Sobbing turns to gasping, gasping to sobbing with rapture, my skill with my mouth bringing her closer to forgetting, her taste heady and making me forget for a moment what I am, what I was, what I will be. Soft abdominal flesh under my fingertips undulating, my icy prints leaving a whitened mark in her flesh, be careful, she's only human. Never forget that.

"I need… I need you to…" Yes, Bella. I need as well. Her legs relented, letting me up, her voice shaky and lungs wheezing with expiratory breaths, hot fingers grabbing blindly, almost frantically, her hold slipping as she briefly forgot to forget. I rushed, both our clothes removed quickly, not because I wanted to fuck but because I didn't want her to slip out of her brief moment of respite. This one thing I could do. Don't lose it, Bella. Don't.

Her gasp- the cold. I must be so cold to her. Tried not to cover her skin with mine, but her grip was so tight that it couldn't be helped. Body waving against mine, wrapping and grabbing. In and in. Not supposed to be this way. Give what she needs. Wants.

What we need. Maybe not what we want.


	15. Chapter 15

**To wolvesnvamps, the reason this story exists. Her amazing heart and astounding generosity donated an astounding $2700 to charity so that Stacie could get herself some chemotherapy and pain medication. We just hope **_**begrudged**_**. is what she envisioned.**

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**Happy Halloween!**

**Chapter 15**

**Bella**

He fucked me that night; more than once, more than twice. With his ice cold fingers and lips and body, he wiped out the last vestiges of Jacob's scalding touches.

At times I would let myself go immobile; I'd let him contort me and bend me and leave bruises he didn't realize he was leaving— because I'd given myself over to him.

But at some points, he'd lay flat on his back and he'd become the still, unmoving one, letting me explore all of him. Every curve and hard, flat plane of him I learned about that night. I straddled him and pounded hard on him- my new territory.

He was just as much mine as I was his.

And when we were consummated and clean of everything but each other, I knew there was equality. We were equally powerful to each other… and powerless to stop this.

The sun came up, streaming through the floor to ceiling windows and I smiled, wrapped in his shirt and a quilt he said had belonged to his mother.

The sun hardly ever rose strong and bright in Forks, yet today- this new day- it had.

There was so much to figure out, the world had tipped and I knew we'd have to figure out how to put it back upright, but right then, wrapped in his house and his clothes and his arms, I didn't need to worry about that.

But Edward's mind was always turning. I was learning that fast. He was capable of focusing on everything, intently, all at once.

"You have a decision to make…" he started when he came downstairs to where I was sitting.

"You shower?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at him. His hair was wet and his clothes were fresh, and he smelled like soap. His family had never come home.

"Of course I shower," he said, and his voice was mocking offense, but his smile was crooked and couldn't be helped.

"I… want to know things like that about you," I said, because I did. Because past this magnetism, this pull that I had no resistance to, it just now occurred to me- I was in a new relationship with someone I hardly knew.

And looking at him, with this playful smile on his handsome face, with his hair towel-dried and unkempt and his feet bare despite him being fully dressed— I knew I was right to give in to this.

Now I just wanted to know why.

"Well, we have all the time in the world for that… I think?" he asked, his head ducking almost sheepishly, and this was another new side to him I'd never seen.

"What do you mean, you think?" I asked, and turned to face him fully, because he'd just fully panicked me. "You're not… I mean, you still—"

"What I was saying… about decisions—"

"I made my decision, Edward… you have to know that. I want to be here. With you. And—"

"Not that," he said, waving his hand dismissively, knowing my choice was obvious.

"Oh. Well, then what?" I asked, then I opened my arms up to him, so he'd come be next to me.

For a split second his eyes widened, then his face broke out into a full smile and before I realized what had happened, I was scooped up and on the couch, on his lap.

"You're going to have to work on slowing down," I panted, blinking back dizzying stars.

"Yeah, well, apparently, going slow isn't our thing," he said, and put his lips just under my jaw.

I turned myself, to face him fully; then, because he was mine and I could, I put my hands on either side of his jaw and angled his head up.

I kissed the sides of his neck,going from ear to ear while he made a gravelly humming noise.

"Bella—"

"I'm not stopping, so don't ask me to," I mumbled.

He made a long, deep noise and sank into the back of the couch and snaked his hand under the front of my shirt.

"No… we have to decide…"

"Decide what?" I asked, replacing my lips with my tongue.

"Your fate."

That stopped me in my tracks. I sat up straight and looked at him.

"I haven't even had coffee yet. Or sleep," I said, trying to deflect the conversation I knew I shouldn't.

He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. He took a deep, unnecessary breath and I shifted in his lap.

"Just… say it," I said.

"We can't stay here. Either way—"

I cut him off by shaking my head hard— agreeing with him. I knew we wouldn't stay here, in Forks— or Washington at all, for that matter.

I couldn't… I wouldn't stay here in Jacob's home and… be with someone else. I wouldn't do that to him. I couldn't bear to see him… tormented.

And knowing it was my fault.

I wouldn't live here and be with someone else. Forks, La Push, Washington- they were home for me and Jacob.

I wouldn't stay.

And not only just for Jacob… I was much more selfish than that. I wouldn't stay because of me, too.

I'd made my decision, one that I can't even regret— but still.

I loved Jacob.

Very much. I wouldn't risk seeing him and mourning my lost future, my alternative path that was never really an option at all.

I was Jacob's only chance of_ completion_— and hanging around here would be the worst kind of taunting. After all, he didn't choose to imprint on me.

He couldn't help it.

Just like I couldn't help needing Edward.

He couldn't read my mind, but Edward could read my face. His finger went under my chin and my eyes met his.

"He couldn't maintain an imprint… if you were instinctive enemies," he said slowly.

"What?"

"Jacob Black. Couldn't need something he's born to hate. And… I'm sure you don't know, but when a human is transformed to a vampire… human memories fade."

He moved his finger and put his hands at his sides, limp on the couch, and I stayed put on his lap, making sense of what he'd just said.

He watched my face as I put his cryptic words together.

If I were like Edward, a vampire, Jacob couldn't love me. It went against his very reason for existence… and if human memories fade, the pain I had for Jacob would fade, too.

It would make everything… bearable.

"You know I don't age," Edward began again.

"That seems to be the problem with all of my boyfriends," I said flatly.

He tensed underneath me; whether at my mention of Jacob or the way I made light of the situation, I didn't know.

"Is that what you want?" I asked him. "Do you want to… change me?"

"No… I want…" he started, but actually struggled for words. "I want what is easiest— rather, what is best for you. And I want what will make you happy. And I'd do anything to see to that. That, Bella, is all I'm saying. I only broached the subject because I want you to be aware of all of your options. I'm content to be with you in any way you'll have me…"

"If I don't change… you wouldn't have me forever. I'll—"

"Bella. Hey. Look at me," he said softly, and I turned my face up to him again. "I don't want you to base your choice on me. I would be lucky and beyond honored to have you… for the duration of your human life—"

"But I couldn't— I wouldn't want you to be here, without me," I said, my eyes wide and my talking too fast. "Not only for you, but for me! I… don't want to be anywhere you're not. No, no. My choice is to be with you. Always. I don't care what means it takes to do that."

"You don't care?" he asked, abruptly sharp.

"No."

"You don't care… about never seeing Jacob, your friends— your _father_ ever again? You don't care about your soul? Your—"

"Stop it. You stop it right now," I said, and firmly clamped a hand on his stone mouth. "You didn't ask these questions when you were sneaking into my window and taunting me all around town. You didn't ask these questions when I sent Jacob away at the boundary line. You don't _get_ to ask them now—"

He jerked his face away from my hand, and gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"You can't go back on this one," he whispered, dropping his chin and staring at me intently. "You can't change your mind—"

"I've already made huge sacrifices to be with you. And Edward… this one… I don't consider a sacrifice-"

"Oh? Jacob, your father, Forks—cast all that aside. You don't consider giving up _heaven_ a sacrifice?"

"I consider anywhere you're not Hell," I said, slow and deliberate.

He stared, black and hard at me for a few long seconds, before his slow, half smile crept up.

"That was very dramatic, Bella. But I'd be a liar if I said some part of me wasn't celebrating. I got what I wanted."

"I have a feeling you always do," I said, then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my throat.

"But for you," he whispered, cold breaths on my skin, "I'd give it all up, too."

"When?" I breathed out, suddenly anxious and impatient to start. To let everything, everything go and just _be_ with him.

He laughed softly under my hair and into my throat, then I felt his cold fingers scrape at the soft skin at the back of my neck.

"So anxious for damnation?" he mused quietly.

"For you."

"For you," he repeated, an afterthought before I was locked tightly against him again.

Throughout the day it went on like that, bits of conversation, bits of plans mixed with cold kisses and locked bodies. Then I fell asleep.

And when I woke, everything was different.

My eyes fluttered open, instantly finding Edward's intent and steady gaze, right above me.

"You have to get up. Now," he said, and his hands went under my arms and he lifted me until I was sitting on the plush couch I'd fallen asleep on.

He hastily tossed my jeans in my lap and when I didn't reach for them, he snatched them back and started dressing me.

"Edward, what— stop— you're scaring me—"

"He's here— Jacob— he's coming. A mile away— but he's fast—"

"_What_? Why is he—"

"I don't know, I don't know— his mind— he's giving up? He's coming to give you up, to concede, give his begrudged blessing—"

"That's not so bad," I said, my voice shaking as Edward reached for my hand.

He pulled me forward and looked over his shoulder and down at me, mid-stride.

"That's not all he's doing," he said.

"What? Edward— you gotta tell me—"

"I _don't know_. He's… masking," Edward said, and the frustration in his voice was almost tangible. "What he's thinking on the surface… but it's all too angry, too full of rage… Bella— he's very dangerous right now—"

"I won't let him hurt you," I said, tugging back on Edward's hand— and then he stopped short and turned to me.

"I won't laugh, given the serious nature of our current situation," Edward said. "But it's not me I'm worried about."

Oh.

His fingers went to my cheek for half a second, gentle and soft and I understood.

"Jacob wouldn't hurt me," I said. "He wouldn't—"

"Maybe not intentionally. Maybe. But Bella, you're… taking his life. He's—"

"He wouldn't hurt me," I said again.

"Fine. We're getting you out of here anyway," Edward said, then scooped me up in his arms. "I'm taking you upstairs, to my room. Do _not _under any circumstances come down the stairs. No matter what you hear— no matter—"

"No way."

"Bella—"

"I won't argue. He's on his way. You can take me upstairs, but I'll come right back down. This is… this is my doing. I won't avoid the fallout like a coward—"

"This wasn't your fault. I don't even think it was mine. Or his. This is imprinting."

"I am at your side, Edward. I am—"

"He's in the back. Twenty yards from the house… in human form," Edward said, his eyes narrowing and seeing off, thinking thoughts I wasn't privy to.

"See?" I whispered, slipping out of Edward;s frozen grasp. "If he were raging mad, he wouldn't be able to help it—h e'd be a wolf. He's just…sad," I said, and my voice broke on the last word.

I walked to the back of the house, Edward directly behind me, at my heels.

"Tell me," I whispered, "what is he thinking… so I know…"

"Christmas?" Edward replied, his voice now a mix of confusion and anger. "A red sweater…"

I bit down on my lip, remembering the awful red sweater I attempted to sew for Jacob two years ago. The arms were mismatched in length and the stitching was lopsided… and he wore it proudly every day for a month.

"More?" I rasped out.

"Kissing in the lake… 'I'd give up cake for you, Jacob.'" Edward was repeating the things he heard in Jake's mind, the things I'd said to Jake. The pain in me, the pain from Jacob and in Edward was almost too much to bear.

My knees shook and my stomach ached.

"Keep going," I whispered, almost to the back door. Edward breathed out hard and swore under his breath twice before talking again.

"Sex, laughing. Sex," he said through gritted teeth, then a feral snarl ripped in his chest.

I reached out for the brass door knob, but before I made contact, I was standing behind Edward.

He threw the door open and there was Jacob, blank-faced and quiet, his hands in his pockets, staring at the house.

"This isn't your territory," Edward said calmly and I took a step to stand beside him.

"I'm leaving," Jake said, quietly and to me. "I can't stay here—"

"We're leaving Jacob. You don't— the boys are here. Your dad is here—"

"I just came to say… goodbye… and I hope… I want good things for you, Bell," Jacob said. "I guess… that's what imprinting is all about? That I should always want what is good for you?" he asked, confusion and sad clouding his deep, soft voice.

"Oh," I breathed out, then I put a hand on Edward's arm, before taking a step off the back porch.

"Bella," Edward practically hissed out my name.

"I'm just saying goodbye… I need… goodbye," I said.

Edward shook his head warily, his black eyes on Jacob, then grabbed my hand and walked with me over to him.

When we were a foot apart and I couldn't see through my tears, I put a hand out for Jacob and heard Edward let out a cautious growl.

Slowly, Jacob's fingers met mine, and then— he snapped me forward.

"I'm not letting go," Jacob said, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to Edward, who was still holding my other hand.

In a flash, Edward dropped my hand, as though it had burned him, and he looked at Jacob— horrified and enraged.

"Jacob—" I shouted, and in a futile move tried to pull my arm from his grasp.

He responded by turning me around and in to him, so my back was pressed to his stomach and chest.

"I want what's best, Bella. It can't be a leech."

"No! No!—"

"Enough!" Edward shouted and I focused on his face— cold, calculating and… terrified.

"Jake, please, you're not even thinking—"

"He is," Edward said, and his black stare and deliberate words were all on Jacob. "Too much… he's thinking_ too_ much."

"I can't live without her. You can't live without her," Jacob said to Edward. "None of us are going to make it out."

Then I felt his scorching hand slide up to my neck— but there was no shaking, no panting— he wasn't poised to hurt or kill a mosquito, much less me.

Edward crouched and I shrieked.

"No— Edward, he won't— he wouldn't— he's not even phasing—"

Then Edward's eyes shot to Jacob's face and his thoughts must've been… they must've been of carnage.

Mine.

I felt his hand tighten minimally around my neck, then he spoke.

"Would I? Would I be capable of doing it?" Jacob asked Edward. "Here's a better question, bloodsucker— are you going to stand there and find out?"

Edward didn't move— not even a twitch as he stood and assessed Jacob.

"No more waiting," Jacob said, and I watched Edward's head slowly cock to the side, seeing whatever Jacob was showing him.

At the same time Edward sprang forward, a small square of paper was pressed into my hand and I was thrown onto my back and several feet away.

And Jacob.

Jacob didn't even fight.

He didn't even phase.

He… _welcomed_ Edward's attack.

The following week, I was cold and___wrapped_ in icy arms in a small, remote city in Alaska. Edward's lips were still and breathless on my neck.

In a few moments, Edward would replace his cold lips with his sharp teeth, and while I knew there would be pain, I also knew there would be relief.

Though I knew I could never fully forget Jacob Black and I could never forget that Edward had killed him, I was hoping the memories of all of it would be muted, that the pain would dull in time.

Clutched in my hands was the unfolded square of paper, the final chapter of our story— of Me and Jacob.

I know it by heart now, but still, I read it anyway, because somehow, someway, I deserve the painful anguish it brings.

"_Bell—_

_If you're reading this, it means I'm a goner. It means things worked exactly as I planned._

_I had to do it. I don't regret it, wherever I am now. I need you to know that I don't regret it. Death in a new world must be better than death in our world… because I was already dead. The moment you made your choice… I was already dead._

_And I can't even hate you for it._

_Maybe if I wasn't capable of imprinting, I would be able to hate you… but I'm all too well aware of that kind of power. You say you couldn't help it, and maybe that's true… but I can't help it either… so._

_Forgive me._

_I never would've hurt you. When my hand was at your neck, I never planned to hurt you. You've always known that. I was just banking on the fact that Edward wouldn't. _

_And you know me well enough to know this wasn't just the quickest means to an end for me. None of us could help it, but ultimately, we'll all pay for it._

_Bella, I may have lost you, bu, do you see how I've won? Don't wallow in guilt, like I know you are. In the battle between enemies, the ultimate victory was mine._

_He gave me the death I wanted, and when he did that, I got any revenge I'd ever wished for._

_I didn't concede, and I didn't simply give you up… I left you with my murderer._

_Every time you see his face, you'll see the face of my killer._

_Every time he puts his hands on you, you'll know his are the same hands that violently ended me._

_I asked for it, I willed him to do it, and I wanted it._

_But still._

_We both know you hold grudges. I suppose now Edward will know that, too. For eternity."_

I curled my body up around that note, and Edward curled with me. I closed my eyes at the sight of his hand lying limply near my face.

He'd been telling me for days he was sorry, and maybe he was sorry I was mourning for Jacob, but we both knew he wasn't sorry for his death.

He told me Jacob would be dead either way.

We discussed this sick phenomenon of imprinting—how it was unjust and unfair and a death sentence.

The possibilities of life without imprinting were endless…

Would I have chosen Jacob in the first place? Would he have wanted me?

Jacob would be alive and happy today if it weren't for imprinting… if he weren't bound to mythical laws.

Did I imprint on Edward? He on me? Had his family just passed through Forks, as they were supposed to, if I never would've cut my fucking finger…

If.

If doesn't matter.

What matters is nothing is pure and complete, the way it should be. Everything has been forever marred because it was never in our control.

Edward begrudgingly killed Jacob. He did it for me.

I begrudgingly let go of Jacob, because I simply needed Edward.

Jacob had been the smartest in the end- he found his way out and he left us—Me and Edward. For all the control the three of us never had, it was Jacob who ended this with the only calculated move in this triangle.

He knew his life and his death would forever haunt me, vampire or not. And Jacob knew that though he forced Edward's hand, I would always know that Edward had ultimately stopped Jacob's heart. I may have been his first death, but Edward was the reason for his last breath.

I will always hold that.

Somewhere, always at the bottom of my heart and in the deepest corner of my mind, I will always be haunted by the fact that Edward killed Jacob— who I never claimed to stop loving.

You see, this was never a tale of Jacob giving me up, or of Edward reluctantly giving me his heart… or even me, reluctantly running to Edward and away from Jacob.

And Jacob… well.

This was more a tale of me and Edward and Jacob. Jacob, who left us begrudged for eternity.

**The End.**


End file.
